Legion Lost
by WeLonelyOldSouls
Summary: The Legion is for life, everyone knows that. What happens when it isn't? When home turns their back on you? What then? Sandbox playground- vague connections to canonical events.
1. Excommunicated

Putting my armor back on after so many days without it was like walking through your front door, you're safe and home. This return to normal, however, was a tainted one. My trial had to have set a record at three weeks long, all of it before the entire Senate. With the sheer number of guards and witnesses, as well as the controversy and politicking, it shut down all operations. I had a feeling it was only the prohibition of arms and armor inside the Forum that kept me alive. I wore what I could, and the rest got stuffed in the bag. One last sweep of my bunk, to make sure I had picked up everything I wanted. There was no coming back for me. This was my last time walking out of here. I flipped the mattress and tucked in the corners. As ordered, I was ready to be escorted out by 0600. Grabbing my weapons from where they leaned, I tucked my spear into place on my back and sheathed the sword on my belt. My shield, forged by a friend two summers ago, got slung on my back as well, over the small bag of my things. Last, I slipped the dagger in my boot as I laced them up. The dormitory was deserted- they didn't want any contact between an exile and the upstanding members of the legion. So, this was it. I swallow my tears and pushed through the mosquito netting to the porch outside, where I found a surprise waiting.

Both Praetors were standing by the steps. While someone in command was required to see that I actually did leave the camp, or if I had died, the duty should have fallen to someone beneath the Praetors. Even then, only one was required. Not both. Even in my confusion and grief, I couldn't break legion training. My knees hit the deck, as was custom when being inspected.

"This is the end." Justin, who stood to my left, said. He held out a hand to help me up. I nodded, not trusting my voice for words, and accepted his hand. Marissa, the other Praetor held out a pouch of denarii.

"This is for the four years of service you've given us." She said, making sure I knew I couldn't refuse them. The moment I accepted them, formality over, she tugged me into a warm hug. "I'm sorry we couldn't change their minds." While both had fought to keep me, she had fought much harder than anyone else. I suspected it wasn't just because I had been a good aide. "I want you to know, I was going to step down next solstice, and recommend you." She whispered, confirming my longstanding suspicions of being groomed for command. With one last, squeeze, she let me go.

"You have a mission, your hardest one yet." Justin started, taking on the mantle of Praetor.

"You will be cut off from traditional supplies, and alone for the duration. You may use whatever resources fall into your path, but you may not seek out official aid. It is with solemn hearts that, due to the nature of your mission, the gates will be closed to you until you complete it. Only once you know who you are will you be able to present a case to be let back in." Marissa said, letting the officiality shield her from the loss.

"Come home." Justin added.

As I walked down the street to the gate where I was to be cast out, I saw many legionaries. People I knew, people who had spoken at the trial, for better or worse. Enemies, friends, and strangers- all here to watch the spectacle in dead silence. There wasn't a whole lot of trust in me, after the incident. I couldn't blame them, I didn't really trust me either. As I came to the boundary marker, I was hit again with the magnitude of the change.

This had been my home, my world. I was born into the legion, raised in Nova Roma. Four years I had fought as part of the legion, had done battle for the good of her people. All that, snuffed out in an instant. As the drawbridge came down, I realized something that I had known deep down: I was never coming back. No matter what I did, how much I learned and could explain, there were only two ways I was ever crossing this bridge again- on a shield, or in a bag. Both options meant I wouldn't be breathing. I clenched a fist, and a pale grey gauntlet wavered in the light.

Auros, spirit. The gauntlet was a physical manifestation of my will, an ability gained at much too high a cost. The whispers I caught said that the gift would grow, that one day I could encase my body in the armor and generate weapons as well. I would become a juggernaut, unable to be held or disarmed. Those days, if I survived to see them, were far away. One centurion stood lone guard at the actual border- eyes watching not me or the camp, but the wilds beyond. Blessed by his indifference, I stopped and drew a symbol in the dirt, almost directly on the line, promising passage. Deliberately standing on the rune, I crossed into the mortal world. When I glanced back, there was nothing to see but empty trees. The mist was powerful at the boundaries to protect the camp from outsiders- and that's what I was now: an outsider.

Four years of service erased. I wiped at my red eyes and followed the path through the trees. The trail merged with another and then another, going from a path barely carved out from the wilderness to a paved trail. I didn't pass anyone on the hike, which given that Helios was barely above the horizon, made sense. The trail ended at a nearly deserted parking lot. Three vehicles sat in the crushed rock. The first was a camper that, judging by the tires, hadn't moved in a couple years. The second was a ranger's truck, empty and locked. The third, I assumed was also locked, until a slight click came from it when I brushed against it. It was a blue ford explorer, definitely not new, but hopefully serviceable. The keys were clipped to the rearview mirror, and after a few clicks and a lot of whining and shaking, the engine turned over. I double checked the mirrors and tried to remember the rules of driving. With no license, I couldn't afford to be pulled over.

Apparently, I remembered enough, as I passed though the town and merged onto the highway without incident. This was going to be a long drive. There were two places I could get answers from: The Fates on Mount Olympus, or the great library in New Orleans. Olympus would be tricky, since the Greek camp was rumored to be near there. But, the library in New Orleans wouldn't let just anyone in. To gain entrance, you either had to be extremely lucky, or have someone put in a good word for you. I didn't have to decide that moment, since both were West. But I would have to decide at some point.

It turned out, I had forgotten one thing about traveling by car. They required fuel fairly regularly. Fuel which does not grow on the side of the road. So, I puttered to a halt in the middle of Arizona, with not a car in sight.

With no choice in the matter, I sat by the road and held out my thumb. Hitchhiking was horribly dangerous for most people, but I was not most people. Unfortunately, the same aura that I was no easy mark made it difficult to convince anyone to stop. After a few cars had slowed down only to speed up again sharply, I checked for what could be driving them away.

In hindsight, it was simple. I looked like I was going to war, if that war was fought without the past eon's technology. Armor, sword, spear, polished shield reflecting the rising sun- no wonder no one would give me a ride. I tugged on the mist and tried to make the best of things. The mist would help hide the abnormal, but it was up to the person how the abnormalities held.

One person stopped but was going the wrong direction. They made a point to comment on how my sword was 'sheathed on the wrong side. I bet you didn't even see the movie,' while another told me that 'I'm sure your art will sell one day!'. As the morning progressed, I found myself glancing at the pink skin on my arm. My tattoos had been burned off during the ritual of banishment. So too had my hard-earned lieutenant badge. That had been a very specific kind of agony, to watch them force the Praetors, who had argued so hard against it to rip it away. But, I had been denounced and cast out. I had no claims anymore. Nothing more than the mark I etched into their wards illegally.

As the day dragged on, I cheated. No one was looking to pick up a teenage girl, so I jumped ship onto some farmers produce sale. I caught him during the turn, and it didn't take but a sprint and a jump to duck into the back of his load. I rolled out as he neared the gas station and pretended I had not just crushed probably 50 heads of lettuce.

To be honest, I was a little too good at this. This type of thing had been my life the past two years. In the legion, I hadn't been a regular centurion. No, I had been a Spec. The Speculators have a long tradition of being scouts and espionage experts. When the legions march, they did so behind us. We would advance days before, clearing the trail and defusing problems. Fresh supplies, water sources, lodging and food- we were good at getting what we needed. But where we excelled was the art of sabotage. We were the original bridge burners, well poisoners, tunnel sappers. Salting the fields? A classic. The closest modern-day equivalent is some of the more off-the-farm Special Forces teams. We were the ones who stayed behind lines, we are the ones who infiltrated and assassinated. It was a thankless job during operations, but for any reckless devil-may-care adrenaline junkie, it was perfect. By the time that the farmer realized that his crop was damaged, or that he had bought two tanks of gas and backtracked, I was halfway through Texas.

The SUV had to be enchanted, because the miles were just rolling past. Perhaps it was a case of Heartland hypnosis, but three states flew by in no time at all. I saluted the exit for Louisiana and gunned the engine. Despite the library in New Orleans being my best bet, as the fates were notorious about being closed lipped, I still needed a sponsor to get access. They were very picky about who could enter the stacks- and as I had no backing, I stood no chance without some weight behind my name. And someone on the big rock would champion my case, if only out of curiosity. I had come back from the dead after all.

Yeah, I died. I saw the fates, watched them snip my line. I felt my soul shrift from my body- but them something strange happened. The end of the line they cut sunk back into the loom. It seamlessly merged, like it had been going to do that all along. It baffled me, and if I thought it was confusing, imagine how shocked the legion had to have been. I walked out of my own funeral pyre, wrapped in grey armor.

They told me they originally thought I was Minerva. Sorely disappointed, I guess. Just a plain old demigod, nothing divine about it. Except that something had changed. Something that still made me shake in my boots.

I shook myself out of my head as I crossed the mountains. I looked, but the Smokies did not live up to their name. No fire or smoke in sight, just waves and waves of green. Disappointing.

It didn't take long to pull up in to Washington DC. The SUV was definitely not standard- someone had played around with the parts. Across the US in two days? Doable, but also not really feasible. Mercury? Apollo? It was someone powerful, and now I owed them.

Quick note for the uneducated, you never drive past DC without stopping. Ever. It is home to too much to ever even think about it. Too much respect and power simmer in its streets. NYC might hold Olympus, where they lived, but DC is where the gods held court. Mars and Athena poked at each other from warehouses and bases, nondescript buildings and black suburbans. Jupiter and Apollo rested around the capitol, while Hera strutted around the gardens. Mercury was in heaven, flighting around like a hummingbird on speed. Here was the land of greater beings than I, and respect was owed.

As such, I kept my mouth shut and weapons sheathed. Some may not appreciate having someone with my reputation here. And, now that I no longer had the protection of dutiful service, the lesser gods could act freely both for and against me. DC was to demigods just as it was to mundanes, a place of dangerous opportunity. One corner might find you being on top of the world, but take two lefts, and you're neck deep in trouble. For any demigod visiting the city, without having been called, it is generally polite to check in with the most powerful permanent resident- the big man on the hill.

The sun was setting on the reflecting pools as I crossed the grass. Deep orange and red streaks colored the air. Dusk was the best time for me to approach him. My hand drifted to my belt as I walked up the steps. I reached the top and knelt, hoping that he was in a nice mood.

"Welcome to the capital. You may rise, Alyssa." I didn't ask how he knew my name.

I stood. "It is a lovely city, Mr. Lincoln."

He let out a rough laugh, the sound of boulders grinding on each other. "Hah! Don't lie to me, child. This place is a cesspool of ill intent. But," His eyes flashed as he eased back into his seat, "It's **my** cesspool. What business have you in the City? At such an auspicious hour?"

He rightly took my silence for shock.

"Yes, I'm aware of the importance of time. You carry a curious blessing. Though, some call it more of a curse. I knew one of your kind, before I was enshrined. He was a loyal soldier, one of the finest. He was on our side of the conflict, mind you. We weren't quite as picky as you all when it came to who could fight." The existence of the Greek camp was the worst kept secret among the upper echelons of the legion. There was no way that it could be kept hidden, it was just too obvious, especially to us, the Spec. So, when we asked Lord Jupiter about it, he laid down judgment, that we would abide their presence as long as they did not harm us. It was a quick and harsh disinformation campaign afterwards, to suppress dissent from the rank and file. It might have been a little too successful.

"You also didn't fight as a unit." I added, a hint of judgement in my tone.

"We didn't. Maybe that's why we were all better fighters, why we won." He shoots back, jovial tone vanishing. I held up my hands in surrender.

"I came here to broker no argument. I'm here as a traveler, and I'm sure you've heard of my own…"

"Severance of ties?" He proffered. "Now you can see for yourself if the Roman or Greek way is better."

"Perhaps." I growled, not appreciating the reminder and push to change too fast. Conversation dwindled, and I set myself checking my gear, unsure if I was dismissed or if he would swat me like a fly any moment now.

"If you're going to be here a while, maybe you'd consider doing me a favor?" Abe asked.

"I have an open calendar for, let's see, the rest of my life. What needs doing?" I snarked cheerfully.

"Atop Washington Monument is a nest for hippogriffs. Recently a manticore moved in and pushed them out. Mind clearing him out?"

"A manticore. On my own." I deadpanned.

"If it's too much…"

"I'll do it. But it better be worth it." I responded, yanking my spear of my back.

"I promise you, it will be worth it."

It wasn't hard to know where to go, the giant rock finger into the sky really was distinctive. And, it being so close, there was no way to get lost. I followed the path from one marble structure to the next, shades passing in and out of my vision as I passed the memorials. If you tuned out the traffic, you could hear the waling from Arlington. Thankfully, the monument was closed for the night. Picking the lock was a simple bump and wriggle, and I psyched myself on the elevator up.

Manticore: big, humanoid, scorpion tail. Intelligent and bloodthirsty. I hadn't faced a manticore personally, but a few of the older legionaries had. From their stories, I was expecting a fight.

Their stories did not do it justice. From the elevator, I followed the smell around the deck and up a hidden ladder. Atop the viewing deck was a semi-open area full of nests. It looked like an entire flock regularly roosted here. I pulled my spear into ready position and clicked my shield into place. I crept around, eyes searching in the gloom for the creature. A dark shape resolved itself next to one of the hay piles. I crept closer, and quick as a snake speared the body through the neck twice. When the pile didn't move, I realized that this was not a sleeping manticore. The hot breath on the back of my neck was the only warning I got as I dive forward, rolling over the rotting corpse of a griffin to avoid the armored sledge of the manticore's tail. I spun on my feet and flung my arm up, a double fist hammering on my shield. Two dark thorns clattered to the ground.

"You're more fun than the last one." It said, scuttling into the light. From claw to tail it was easily eight feet tall. It had a chest of matted fur, dark stains clumping together. The torso seamlessly bled into the armored carapace of a scorpion, six jagged legs supporting a massive tail, held poised to strike. Another spike was sent whistling past my ear as he stalked forward, his arms crossed.

"Oops. My bad." His eyes were the worst- red and beady. He knew that he was a monster, knew that he was horrible. He reveled in it. He loved it. Beneath his eyes was a terrible mouth, rimmed ever so slightly with dried red.

"Di immortals." I swore, retreating from his bulk. He laughed.

"Wow. Such a filthy mouth on you. Perhaps we should," a whirl of spikes thudding into the floor as I scrambled out of their path, "silence it." He finished, rushing forward. I jabbed my spear at him, sinking the tip deep into his side, but was forced to roll aside as he carried the shaft with him. He turned by means of running on the wall which was so not fair and ripped the spear out.

"Pathetic." He sneered, snapping the spear and throwing the pierces down. I drew my sword and crouched.

"For the 9th." I whispered, ducking his tail and hacking at his legs. It was a messy tangle of loose nesting and hard talons, my feet narrowly avoiding being stabbed or slipping as I laced his flank with shallow cuts. The stings seemed to only enrage him as he grabbed my armor and threw me across the room. I hit one of the griffon nests and skidded, catching the lip of the edge with my feet as I scrambled to stand up and defend against another slam.

Somewhere along the way he picked up a spear of his own, and though he wasn't amazing at it, it was just one more level of difficulty. We circled along the edge of the roost, him charging in and trying to run me through or impale me, me barely able to keep my defenses up in the face of such an onslaught but managing to attack whenever I had an opening.

Suddenly the inevitable happened, I slipped. It was unavoidable, with all of the straw and branches and random stuff tucked in here—was that an actual mattress over there? My foot gave out and I narrowly rolled away from the massive barb on the end of his tail. Chips of whatever the floor was made out of flew into my face as I kept rolling, barely ahead of the spine. My luck ran out once more as I felt my legs fall off the edge. My desperate dodging had taken me to the worst point possible- death by falling.

He drew back for a moment to gloat, me barely hanging on by my fingertips.

"Well, you proved a nice dancing partner, but I'm afraid the ball is drawing to a close. Any last requests? Though I have one first- don't let go. I'd hate to have to ride that stupid elevator back up here after I fetch your corpse."

"How, about, no?" I grunted, swinging back and forth under the platform and leveraging the momentum to spring forward through the glass of the lower deck. I crashed through in a shower of crystal, everything aching.

"Might have been more than I could handle." I muttered, climbing to my feet and dusting glass off my clothes. I started walking as I picked a few shards out of my palms.

"Good show." He said, as an arm grabbed me through a different window and dragged me out. Of course, he could walk on walls. What did I expect of a mythical beast, both intelligent and cursed. He dragged me back up the monument to the roost, locking my arms behind my back.

"I'd rate you a six on the Polyphemus scale right now, purely on skill alone. How you taste will determine if you rate any higher. I once got a bite of Artemis, sorry, Diana herself. 12/10. Would taste again." He looped my wrists in some kind of chain and backed away. "Hold still- this will only hurt a lot. I hear its true agony. Until you die that is." He drew back, reared his tail up, and swung forward in a blur. Desperate, I snapped my hands forward, grey smoke blooming out and forming gauntlets as I ripped through the chains. I caught the end of his stinger, holding it mere inches from my gut.

"Not. Today. You. Foul. Beast." I spat, forcing him back with every word. Mustering all of my strength, I threw him from the roost, whipping him by his tail. He whirled into the darkness and I wrote the job done. I walked back to the chains, careful to not step on either griffin droppings or dead parts. Hanging next to where I had been were three other bodies. Human bodies.

Two were simply mundanes who had gotten pounced, all they had was their wallets and dead phones. I pocketed the cash and tossed the phones. Too much work to monster proof a cellular device.

The third was the earlier demigod the manticore referred to. He was wearing the garish orange that marked out the Greeks, but he had supplies. I tucked away the ambrosia, frowned over the quality of his knives, but stashed them anyway. Some digging found a quiver, which meant there was a bow around here too. In my searching, I lost track of my surroundings. I missed the quiet click, click, click of talons slowly edging their way across the floor.

"MOVE!" The shout came, and I rolled on instinct, the heavy whoosh of his tail flying past my shoulder yet again. It split the flooring, and he yanked it back with much vengeance. He reared up again, but a silver arrow sprouted from his armpit.

"Die!" He hissed, but another arrow stuck in his ribs before he shielded with his tail

"My lady will have you soon enough!" The girl shouted, raising a horn to her lips and sending out two short blasts. An answering call came from the west, and a narrow pile of lights surged across the green. The manticore hissed something nasty at us before he scuttled out of the aerie.

"You're lucky Lady Artemis sent me here." She said, before looking up, not seeing an orange shirt and turning pale. "Diana! Don't know why I called her by her heathen name, you know how those Greeks were! Lady Diana-"

"I'm aware of the existence of both camps." I stated, turning back to hunting around the ruins of the manticore's camp.

"Oh. I wasn't- I didn't know that anyone-" She stammered.

"Ex-legion." And it stung to say that. "Ex-Spec, to be exact."

"I wasn't aware the legion let people leave."

"We- They. They don't. Not normally. I'm a special case." I toss a tattered backpack at her. "See if that has anything of value."

She starts checking pockets, but her curiosity gets the better of her. "What made you special?"

"Drop it." I growl, prying open a locker.

"Okay. So, you were a Spec? We worked with you all once, over at-"

"Hoover Dam." I butt in. "I was on West, but I have some friends who met you all on East. Said you're not bad for mercenaries."

"Mercenaries!? We're much more than dirty mercs! We're proud maidens of the lady Arte-" She shuts up when she sees my face barely holding back a laugh.

"You're terrible."

"Yep. All joking aside, we do have a lot of respect for you all- you're highly competent and skilled. She trains you all well."

"She does have a reputation to uphold." The girl says.

"Yeah, but you all go beyond that. You're much more disciplined than some of our own, much less the gracia."

A flash of light suddenly shoots in, and the floor gives a warning rumble. I fall to one knee, head bowed.

"Khyra, what's taking you so-" Artemis asks, a bow in her hands. Silver knives are sheathed along her thigh. She's in the form of a young 20-year-old, silver circlet delicately woven into her hair.

"Milady." Khyra says, curtseying. Artemis gaze is on me, a steady weight of judgment. Of intent, of purpose, of identity. She gives a shiver and her form blurs, the circlet in her hair sharpening, the knives elongating. She gains three years in the blink of an eye, and full measure of attitude and sharpness.

"I had wondered if our paths would cross once more, Alyssa." Diana said, motioning for me to stand. "Last we met, you were quite tied to your comrades. You do not bear those bonds any longer."

"If you're asking if my answer has changed, it has not." I said, solemnly looking up and meeting her icy gaze. I could feel the power, the hunt and the moon, the wild and free spirit- the raw unbridled energy of the hunt and the fight in her gaze. Quickly, I looked away, lest I get drunk on the feeling. Lest I promise something that I'm not even sure is mine to give anymore.

"Shame. You'd make an excellent lieutenant." Diana sniffs.

Khyra gasps, "Milady!"

"Khyra, assist Alyssa here and then catch up with the rest of us. His trail headed North." She orders, giving a stern look at Khyra, then turning back to me.

"As for you, the offer still stands. Know this: I will always be loyal to my own. No matter what." It hit me at that moment, she knows. She knows what I am.

Diana took a running leap, and shifted into a falcon, winging her way toward the wayward hills.

"Alyssa, who exactly are you? Why does Lady-" Khyra starts, but I silence her with a look.

"Maybe if our paths cross again, but I can't. Not now." Angrily, I hit the last locker, which springs open and dumps a jacket and bow on me.

"Those are blessed by-" Khyra gasps. I note the clean feel, the sturdy make and the scent of wild freedom in the collar of the jacket. The bow feels light and sturdy, with two silver owl feathers hanging from the nock. I toss both to her.

"They're yours- they mean more to you." I say in lieu of an explanation and start walking toward the exit.

"Wait! Alyssa! I can't just take these! Alyssa! Damn you, wait up!" To my dismay, she catches me in the elevator.

"Look, I can't just bring these back. Lady Artemis left these there for a reason. You can't just-"

"I can't what? Refuse a gift from a god? Hate to break it to you, I've done it before. Hell, I ended up here because one wouldn't take no for an answer. So yes, take them. I don't want them." I shout, fighting the squirming in my stomach. _SheKnowsSheKnowsSheKnowsDianaKnowsTheyAllKnowSheKnows_

"Fine." A bow is thrust in my face. "If I'm taking these, then you take this one. I saw you looking for one. You've got a quiver and no bow. This one is a little used, but it works perfectly fine. If I'm taking this one back, then I don't need my old one anymore."

I take the offered bow, sliding it over my shoulder.

"You may not like me, but I hope we meet again. Don't die out there, not alone." Her eyes darken. "I've lost too many sisters that way. And you may not be one officially, but it's obvious she wants you. So, consider yourself adopted." Khyra turns and wraps her arms around me briefly before running off. It isn't until I'm halfway down the path that I realize that she slipped her horn in my bag.

"Safe travels." I whisper, shrugging the straps of my bag a little tighter.


	2. Friend or Foe?

"Oi! Marble Face! You told me a manticore, not a massively ripped manticore! His swolesomeness challenges The Rock. I faced The Mountain of manticores! You owe me, big time!" I shouted.

"Alyssa." He says, rubbing his forehead, making me wonder if statues and automatons got headaches. "You humans have no decorum." He turns back to the cyclops who was standing, and who's conversation I had interrupted, "That sounds like a solid plan. If you would like an arbitrator or second opinion later on, let me know. I apparently have another visitor."

"I'll have you know I have plenty of decorum, I just choose not to use it. You. Owe. Me." I say again, poking Abe in the highest part I can reach, his shin. The cyclops nods to the marble giant and gives me an appraising look before walking away.

"So, you managed to survive." Abe says.

"You did not expect me to." I accuse.

"No, I did not." Before I could shout, he held up his hand, "Let me finish explaining before you get mad at me. What you failed to grasp is the local politics. Everyone who's anyone in this town wants things to go their way, and when you showed up, you were a wild card. You're certainly no player, but neither are you a pawn in someone's game. Did you know that everyone knew when you crossed the ward lines? Everyone. I had a witness tell me that Lord Jupiter himself paused in his speech. You have an aura now that you didn't before. A cloak of power clings to you, one that we haven't felt in a very, very long time. So, yes, I gave you a task that I suspected would kill you, as was the consensus of the groups. I did not anticipate you returning alive, yet here you are. You driving out the Manticore will have ameliorated some of the more neutral groups, and so you should be safe now. Still, our debts are not yet settled." Abe said.

"No. Like I said, you owe me." I snarled, not at all pacified by his explanation. I hadn't really disliked them until the trial.

"I have weapons and armor, trinkets and tools. What do you need?"

"Information."

Abe leans back in his throne and frowns. "I'm not sure I can help you there. There is much that I am barred from speaking about. What information do you seek?"

"I need to know about me. About who I am. About what- about what I've become."

"I don't think I can help you. Your quest, even if self-ascribed, is your own. You must acquire the information yourself."

"Please, anything you can give me. I'm completely in the dark here. They- they had an idea of who- of what I am." my voice catches, "And they banished me for it. They were afraid. They couldn't trust me. Not after I had served willingly and with distinction for all this time. Tell me what I am, please."

"You are a-." he coughs and tries again. "You bear the curse of-" the words won't come out. "You should talk to –" he has to stop again. "huh, looks like I physically cannot tell you."

"Schist." I mutter.

"Whitlock. Matthew Whitlock." Abe finally is able to say. "He was the last I know of. The last one to have your gifts."

"Where can I find him?" I ask.

"His bones are just down the road, guarded 24/7."

"He's dead."

"He was a soldier, long ago. When the two sides of the coin clashed. He fell north, on the bloodiest field. Maybe you can find an answer there." Abe says, "Before you go, rest here. You've been going for a long time without rest. Your journey will not be quick- this is no short matter to be resolved. This place is a true ground, safe to all who approach without malice. I'll see if there is anything else while you rest."

I follow his advice, setting down my bag and curling up behind the throne. I don't expect sleep, but almost immediately if comes and sweeps me away.

 _The air is full of smoke, acrid clouds of black and grey billowing over the water._

" _Such a shame it has to go." A figure says, a woman, dressed in a chiton, wearing an ornate headdress says to a dark-skinned man holding a book and a pen._

" _It must. There is no other choice than this. If they found out, then that would be the end. For all of us, this must be done." He says solemnly. She lays a hand on his arm and leans into him._

" _Doesn't it hurt?"_

" _I can feel every secret fading, every line burn away. Yes, it is agonizing. All of these are largely forgotten. This may never be rediscovered." He says._

" _To damage your domain yourself- I have not the strength for that. You are far braver than I."_

" _It is not so hard for me. I am born of logic and reason. I can understand why this must be done, even if I will not remember it later. Some of these secrets, must stay buried. The old ones_ _ **must not**_ _be allowed to awaken. We've kept the balance of power for millenia. We can keep it intact."_

" _You are defying the fates, the ma'at, everything."_

" _The mortals believe that they make their own fate. Call me a progressive." The dark man gives a wry smile, before collapsing in agony. "This is the end. It is almost done."_

" _You will not remember."_

" _You must make me see reason but keep it a secret. Deceive me, one last time."_

" _Go in peace, friend."_

I wake with blood on my face and ash on my tongue. Whatever that was, it left its mark. A foul curse falls from my lips without thinking, in a language I do not know. I wipe away the crust and swish the taste out of my mouth with my canteen.

"I haven't heard that particular swear in a very long time. It seems your dreams were not pleasant."

"You do not dream." I accuse.

"No." the automaton says plainly, honestly, flatly. Marble on Stone. I can appreciate the blunt honesty.

"What do you have for me?"

"I have two paths for you. There is a band of demigods fleeing from monsters near the docks- help them and you'll go north."

"and the other?" I demand.

"An acquaintance at the capital has an entrance to the Capitoline tunnels. They would get you there as well."

Other demigods were a risk, flat out. A Roman patrol would offer no succor. If they were Greek, there was a solid chance they would attack outright. If the trio were unclaimed, then it was even worse. I would have to protect three untrained all the way to the Greek camp, as no child of Rome would be unclaimed this far east. However, the Capitoline Tunnels were no small matter. After Nero, the tunnels were cursed. Anything could be down there, from a shrine to Vulcan or Pluto to hellhound breeding grounds. A known danger versus an extreme unknown? I trusted my skills, but not my luck.

"Where are the demigods?"

"Potomac yard. Three Giants are tracking them. They aren't going to last long." Abe says.

"And the contact at Capital?"

"He guards the green door on sublevel three. Tell him Borglum."

"Are you saying that Mount Rushmore is a-" I start, jaw dropping.

"I cannot say any more on the matter. Go!"

I'm off like a shot, gear stowed away and legs pumping as I join the other early morning joggers on the green in no time, I'm lost in the crowd, the mist deftly swirling.

It's worse than I feared, and at the same time, not. Of the three demigods Abe spoke of, only one was captured. They looked like they had been traveling for a while, ripped clothes and beaten backpacks in the corner, hastily cast off when they were ambushed. The oldest, male, looks like he can fight to a degree. The other, female, bristles under the chains she is tied with. The last, female, young, just a child really, waves a knife about like she has some experience. I scan the construction yard for a good angle to strike from. If they can hold on, I should be able to take out one of the giants in an ambush. As I scale the pile of pipes stacked along the side, I catch flashes of the fight out of the corner of my eye. It isn't going well.

The boy is taking the brunt of the attack, narrowly avoiding the giant's club. He's not the brightest, in my opinion, as he's advanced too far out. If he moved back about ten feet, he'd be partially sheltered by concrete pipes. The little girl is doing much better, as she had lured one of them into a partially poured foundation. It had solidified, but the giant was hampered by the rebar poking out of the floor. He couldn't move easily, and his club was stopped more often than not. She was also agile, rolling under his blows and between his legs to slice his legs with her knife. I'm honestly a little impressed. She'll be a force to be reckoned with once she grows up. If she grows up.

I manage to get onto the overhead beams without being noticed. I pull on one of my bracelets, letting the charm expand into Khyra's bow. Plucking at a bead on the string, it expands to the arrows. I sight the shot in, draw the string back and, letting my breathing settle, release.

Snap!

One of the giants has a new eye hole. I draws and fire again, milking the confusion for all the damage I can do. When one giant looks like an ugly pincushion, and the other has more than a few shafts sticking out of him, I'm finally spotted. The only untouched Giant roars and grabs the support beams. He shakes the structure, sending me stumbling.

"RAAAAH! Die Demigods!" The Giant roars. I tuck the bow away and draws my sword, letting a single pang of loss for my spear pound before embracing the fight.

Giants are dangerous, but not overly so. Their greatest powers are their size and strength. If you can confine them, or slow them down, then they're manageable. Never easy or safe, but low risk. I plunge my sword into the one by the base of the beams, swinging on the leverage provided by his shoulder blade and kicking his jaw. With a gasp from the boy, I drop to the ground, letting the blow coming from one of the others bury my sword fully in its chest. Both of them roar, but my target turns to a shower of golden dust as the sword does enough damage to be fatal. In a neat flourish, as I pop out of my roll I catch the blade.

"Hi. Welcome to DC, I'll be your tour guide for the day. Right in front of you, you'll see two giants, formerly three. They want to eat you, and that would put such a damper on our tour, so let's take them out."

The three demigods all look dumbstruck, but a rumbling ground belays the inbound behemoth and they shock into action.

The little one shouts, reluctant to leave her safe haven, but the charging Giant pay her no mind. The bound girl struggles, but can't get free of her chains, and the boy steps closer.

"I'm Luke. These are-"

"After the fight. Concentrate." I shut him down, watching for the other giant to regain his bearings after killing his friend.

The charging one swings his club overhead, intent on pulping them on the floor. I shove Luke forward, inside the guard of the charging Giant, and scramble to engage the weakened one. He has the most arrows in him, feathered shafts poking out of his head and chest. His eyes are clouded over with blind rage, and he lets out a foul scream, lunging at me with his meaty hands.

A scream distracts me, and I turn. The boy isn't doing too bad, dancing around the giant's stomps and lacing his legs up and down with swipes from his machete. However, their dance had taken them close to the fallen girl and she narrowly rolled out from under the large foot.

My inattention costs me, as I turn back right into a backhand. The concrete piles, half destroyed by the fight already, crumble further as I smash though them. My swords clatters away, and my vision blurs.

"Annabeth! Help her!" Luke shouts, chucking a piece of concrete at the giant looming over me. He growls and turns to meet new threat. The little girl is wiry, but not prepared to take a giant on flat ground. She skittish about being hit, too careful about leaving herself exposed. At this rate, she'll run out of energy or he will get a lucky hit before she takes him down. Their dance continues as Luke sends his giant to the floor, hamstrung, but not dead yet. Luke starts on freeing the other girl, but Annabeth is in trouble. The giant was able to push her back, and she is cornered against the wall.

I struggle to my feet, head swimming.

"Incoming!" I shout, blinking the four giants into two again, and whipping my dagger at the one attacking Annabeth The bronze blade hits the giant, but on the wrong side. It bounces off his cheek and my insides crumble as I realize I may have just gotten a little girl killed. But, a small hand shoots out and snags the falling blade. Annabeth scales the giant and, using her legs to hold on, plunges the blade through the giant's eye. The beast crumbles to dust as he falls. Luke pops the chains off the fallen girl, not realizing the other giant had crawled over to them. The now freed girl slides forward and rips Alyssa's sword off the floor, thrusting the blade into the descending giant's arm. She throws her weight into it and slices from its bicep to its chest. It explodes into a shower of golden dust too.

I'm forced to lean on the pipes as my vision swims again. "So, good first stop on your tour? I'm hoping for a five-star rating." My legs give out and I slide to the floor.

The girl who had been captured, who I learned was named Thalia, helped me limp away from the construction site. Luke got us on an actual tour bus, and we commandeered the last four seats.

"So, you're on the run from the monsters." I drop without preamble when the silence sits a little too long.

"Yeah. I've been traveling two years." Luke says, "I met Thals 14 months ago, and Annabeth 3."

"Do you have a destination in mind?" I ask.

"No. Hermes used to stop by, but after Annabeth joined, he's been quiet."

"Neither has mom." Annabeth chimes in. I start to ask, but the grey eyes are unmistakable. Athena. " _Or Minerva."_ My mind supplies.

"Well, whoever my parent is, they've never said a word to me." Thalia announces loudly, drawing a few looks. "We keep moving, right? Staying in one place always draws more of them."

"That it does." I admit.

"So, what's your story?" Luke asks, "You're obviously more prepared. You must know some things."

"Sure. I'm not from around here, but you guessed that. I've had a few people each me a thing or two over the years. For one, those were Giants. I couldn't tell what clan, but they're big and strong. Not too bright. You saw how long it took them to find me in the rafters? That's normal." I explain.

"But your weapons. they turned to them to dust. They've never done that so fast before." Thalia asks, eyes gleaming with desire.

"Yes. They're made of special materials. Celestial Bronze or Imp-" I catch myself. "They send monsters to Tartarus" I finish weakly.

"do you have any extra?" Thalia asks.

"Only the dagger I gave to Annabeth. If we find a monster nest, there might be some left over."

"Left over from what?"

"From the demigods they killed." I say to horrified looks. "This life isn't safe. You're not likely to survive until your 20s. It's just the way things are. No use falling apart over it." I dig out a small plastic baggie and crack it open.

"Are those drugs?" Luke accuses seeing the strange crumpled bar, while Thalia takes few peeks and pretends not to be interested.

"This is ambrosia, food of the gods." I explain, breaking off a few small pieces. "It'll heal your scrapes and wounds. Careful though, as too much is fatal." Each of them take a piece, Luke and Annabeth reluctantly.

' "It tastes so good!" Annabeth squeals, "Like dad's mashed potatoes."

"What are you talking about? It's definitely Cheddar bay biscuits!" Luke protests.

"It tastes like home." Thalia admits quietly.

"It has the flavor of whatever you love to eat." I say quietly, savoring the tang of camp barbeque.

"Uh, guys, we might have a problem." Annabeth suddenly blurts out, pointing at the window. Outside is a swirling swarm of glittering birds.

"Maybe they won't find us." Luke says cheerily. The sky outside darkens as a large shadow moves over the bus.

"We've got to go!" I shout, diving for the emergency exit.

The windshield of the bus cracks and shatters as the swarm dives through it, smashing into the driver and streaming into the confined space. The passengers are screaming in pandemonium, bronze beaks pecking and tearing at whatever they can reach.

"Move!" I shout, busting the rear of the bus open. I spin my shield up, covering the group as best I can while being dive bombed by the flock. Luke is the last out, swatting at the birds with his machete.

"We've got to get out of the open!" Thalia shouts, as my shield pings and dents.

The group is frantic, barely covered by the shield as we crouch against the bus.

"The capital! I know an escape route form there!" I shout, pointing toward the stately columns.

"Run!" Luke shouts, battering the flock as they descend. It's a short run from the bus to the building, just across the street and up the steps. I do the best I can, but my shield isn't big enough to cover more than one. Maybe two people, if they get real friendly. The crows are squawking and tearing at us, metal wings cutting at clothes and beaks snapping for flesh. We make it up the steps and are opening the door when Annabeth trips. I'm on the next step before I realize what has happened. She's screaming, covered in a whirling, cawing flight of flesh eaters. Luke tries to go back out, but I grab his arm.

"There's no use! They'll get you both!"

Thalia is too fast for me to catch and shoots out the doors, anger bleeding off her steps. Her hair is on end, and a heavy smell permeates the air.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Thalia shouts, thrusting her hands out. The world hangs still for a moment, everything frozen in anticipation of what is to come. With an ear shattering crack, the world goes white and the ground shakes. Blinking back tears, eyes streaming, I can barely make out the scene outside. Every bird is dead. The whole flock is littered on the green and the road, smoke rising off of them. Annabeth is ripped up and torn, worse than the others by far. Thalia is still standing where she was, hands outstretched. Sparks crackle between her outstretched fingertips.

"I think we know who you're the daughter of." Luke says, tugging her inside as I scoop up Annabeth.

"She's not in good condition." I gasp "and too much ambrosia will kill her, so I'm reluctant to use much."

"Kill her!" Luke shouts, horrified. His outburst draws eyes, and Thalia has to send a few smiles. I'm too tired to do much more than prod at the mist.

"Keep it down!" Thalia snarks, cuffing Luke's head.

"It is the food of the gods! Not safe for mortals. We can only stand it because we're not fully human. And Annabeth is young, I don't want to risk it." I shoot back, dragging them toward the staircases.

"My contact is on the third floor." I explain, shifting the unconscious child on my back, "maybe he can help."

Down two flights of stairs, we spread out. "A green door. It should be guarded." When Thalia and Luke split off, I carry Annabeth into the bathroom.

The girl is bruised and bloodied, large holes in the back of her shirt and pants. I carefully tug the bloodstained shirt off and dig for my first aid kit. I test for poisons and give thanks when the test comes back clean. Carefully, I start wrapping the injuries. Annabeth stays out of it, but whimpers when I have to pull the gauze tight on some of the deeper cuts.

"I'm sorry, but this is your best hope." I whisper "You're strong, so fight to survive. Minerva keep you."

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end suddenly.

"That is not my child." I turn to see grey eyes, familiar, but these are not filled with childish joy and innocence. No, these are firm and calculating. The look breaks me down to my most basic, to my flaws and weaknesses, all cataloged and tossed about until a dozen strategies are formed, all in an instant.

"Yes, she is!" I protest.

"No. She is the product of my foolish other side. The weak one. Arts and Crafts, bah!" Minerva spits. "I am a warrior, a commander. I am on tapestries, not weaving them."

"You are this girl's progenitor." I argue.

"I will not help her." Minerva scowls, turning to leave.

"Wait! What will it take?" I plead. I can't let her die, not when I can do something.

"What could you possibly offer me?"

"I don't know, but I'll do it. Anything." I promise.

"Anything?" Minerva's look changes. "That is a very dangerous bargain for you, soulless one. I could make you do anything. At all. Walk into the Legion camp unarmed. Surrender to the Greeks. Take you for a bargaining chip."

I swallow, mouth suddenly dry, "I stand by it. Help her, and I'm yours for one favor."

Minerva's lips twitch into a feral smile, "Someone in the tunnels will help her now. I'll be in touch." The goddess walks out of the bathroom, heels clacking.

I nearly have my knees go out again as the weight leaves the room. On the back of my hand, a grey eye blinks before sinking into my skin. There will be no shirking this deal.

I finish wrapper her up as best I can, quickly running out of gauze. Annabeth has no other clothes, so I rinse the shirt as best I can before tugging it back on her. She's stable but needs help before long. I pick her up again and head for the stairs.

"What took you?" Luke asks, Thalia and he eating protein bars they stole from a vending machine.

"We were interrupted. Did you find it?"

"Interrupted by who?" Thalia demands, fists tightening. "This is awfully convenient, you saving us and knowing an escape route."

"I can walk away, if that's what you'd prefer?" I snarl, temper close to breaking after dealing with Minerva's arrogance and irresponsibility.

"No. We'll be watching you, though." Luke says, patting the machete on his waist. "The door is this way, c'mon."

True to the Statue's word, the door is where he said it would be. But, there's no guard.

"It doesn't open." Luke says. "I tried picking the lock, but no dice."

I knock to no response. Despite jiggling the handle, the door remains locked.

"Damn. Lying Statue." I mutter.

"There's a symbol down here." Thalia says, pointing from where she slid down the wall. Indeed, on the door, about shin height, is a hammer and a lightning bolt.

"Gutzum." I say, feeling stupid, but this is what Abe said.

"Well, nothing happened." Luke says, easing off the wall.

"…Borglum…" Annabeth moans quietly. A whir comes from the door, bolts clacking and gears spinning. The lock clicks open.

"Well, look like the lump of marble wasn't lying after all." I say, entering the dark stairwell behind the door. "This is the way. Follow me."

As we descend into the darkness, worry strikes. This is a cursed **roman** path. I'm leading two untrained Greeks into it, with another on my back slowly dying. Not to mention, I made a blind deal with Minerva, who is infamous for getting the better of her bargains. As the staircase behind them fades, I remember one last thing. I'm technically dead. No doubt, Mors had me on his list.


	3. Capitoline

"Alyssa, where are we exactly?" Luke asked as we passed yet another room with blackened walls. Between the four of us, we had two flashlights, which was enough to not trip over anything, but not enough to trust the edges of your vision. It didn't help that the walls were covered in soot and our footsteps swirled with what I hoped, but knew better, was dust.

"These are a set of tunnels carried over from the old world. They bear a curse, but we should be fine. Just let me know if you start to feel warm or hear crackling." I say quietly, sidestepping a pile of fallen rocks.

"Are you allowed to tell me where from?" Thalia asks quietly.

"Not safely." I respond.

"mm." she hums. Another turn and we come to a fork in the darkness.

Which way?" Luke asks, flicking the light between the two paths.

"Two roads diverged, and I/ I took the one less traveled by." I say quietly, pointing to the left.

"What was that?" Thalia asks as we are walking.

"Robert Frost, he's a poet." Annabeth says quietly, rubbing her eyes, "Badly quoted." She wrinkled her nose, "It smells like smoke." She complains.

"Then we're going right!" I say quickly, ushering everyone back the way we came.

"Annabeth, you should probably rest up. Your injuries aren't healed yet. You're still at risk of going into shock."

"Yeah, we've got this. Take it easy." Thalia adds, ruffling her hair. Annabeth does fall back asleep, tucked away on my back.

Crunch. Crunch.

"Alyssa, what are we walking on. It doesn't feel like stone." Thalia asks.

"Thals, you don't want to know." Luke says solemnly. "Just pray we get out of here soon."

"It's bone, isn't it?" She whispers.

I give her a rueful nod, following Luke's lead. the tunnels split a few more times, and each time we pick the wrong path we escape with enough warning. Sulphur, or heat. One had a figure crucified on the wall. We ran from that path.

"Alyssa, I know where we are." Thalia says quietly, so Luke doesn't hear. "Why would you lead us down here? This place is-"

"A deathtrap? Yes. But this is not my first time using these tunnels. They snake everywhere, especially after the curse." I explain.

"What happened?" She asks.

"Explaining might draw out something we don't want." I warn.

"I want to know." She admits.

"The tunnels used to be fine. They were a way to travels under the bustle, away from prying eyes. Mostly used by the upper crust, by the powerful. They were a shortcut, and well-guarded. Then, the incident." I took a deep breath and smelled for anything out of the ordinary. "He burned it. All of it. When the people fled down here, he twisted the flames to follow. All the people, trapped down here, with nowhere to go. No way forward, and an inferno behind them." I tested for anything to have changed, but nothing had yet. "The curse is that they did not all move on. Some have not yet been found, been laid to rest. So, we have to be careful. After they stopped guarding the tunnels, other things moved in." I whispered.

The way was treacherous, as some of the tunnels had collapsed. Some showed signs of being dug out, and more than a few we had to squeeze through.

"Good thing no one is claustrophobic." I joked as I passed Annabeth through a particularly narrow crevasse between a rock and the wall. In the next room, there were shadows plastered on the walls. Silhouettes of bodies, flash fried. "We're almost through the center." I said, sending yet another prayer for the souls.

"Alyssa," Thalia hissed, "Those did not come from the incident."

"No, they did not." I said quietly as we continued on.

"I think it's getting brighter!" Luke called out as we went down a long hallway.

"That's not coming from in front of us." Thalia remarked, her voice shaking slightly.

"RUN!" I screamed, falling into a dead sprint as the tunnel grew brighter very quickly. We were sweating in no time as the temperature rose sharply with every passing second.

"Alyssa." Luke shouted. "What is that?"

"If you can talk, you can run faster!" I shouted back, purposefully not answering him. As we carried on, fighting for every inch to stay away from the furnace behind us, I saw light ahead.

"We're almost safe!" I shouted, "But if you see a stream of water, jump it."

"Why?" Thalia shouted.

"Styx!" Luke cursed, as he narrowly hurdled a small trickle of water he didn't see coming.

"Exactly!" I shouted back.

"WHAT?" They both screamed. The streams of water grew larger and more common, which meant that our forward progress slowed as he had to start hopping and straining to keep our footing.

The creature behind us was gaining. Sweat started sizzling away as the heat continued to grow.

"One more jump, and it's a big one, then we're safe!" I shouted. Luke saw the edge of the river and threw himself forward, windmilling. He hit the opposite shore and rolled. Thalia had more warning and kept her feet as she landed, turning around.

I saw the edge coming, braced myself, prepared to leap and jumped, only to have my foot slip at the last second. I wasn't going to clear it. I threw Annabeth to Thalia as I fell, bracing myself for soul searing agony. I hit the water most of the way across, catching myself on my hands and knees. But, the pain didn't come.

"Come. You're safe from the Ignarius here." A woman said, holding a hand out to me. She stood in the water, unharmed. I reached out and took it, letting her pull me to shore. As I crossed over the shoreline, I noticed the armor that had formed around my exposed limbs. It sizzled away, but held the waters off me.

Across the rover, the beast roared. It was huge, and bright. Though slitted eyes, you could make out that it was vaguely canine shaped, but much larger. And made of lava. Churning, hissing, crackling lava. Its eyes were darker than the rest of its skin, and its teeth long shards of molten metal. It growled a challenge but walked away in the end.

"What is that?" Luke breathed.

"That was what some call the Ignarius, an anthropomorphic embodiment of fire. But, it's nickname is much more clear: The Hellhound." The woman explains.

"Who are you?" I ask warily.

"You called me here, don't you know?" she smiles. "I am the oath keeper, the cleanser. I am Lady Styx, goddess of the rivers."

While I was drawn back and still wary about asking her for help, Luke was not.

"Lady Styx, our friend is injured. Can you do anything to help her?"

"Let me see." Reluctantly, I laid Annabeth down. Lady Styx poked and prodded at her, tsking and humming. "I might be able to do something. But of all people, you should know, nothing is free."

"What is your price?" Luke asked, the same time as Thalia said, "I'll pay it."

Lady Styx threw back her head and laughed. "You would pay the price without knowing the cost? Be careful, girl, as there are those," her eyes rested on me, "who will ask more than their due. I am a fair goddess, unlike some. Lesson one: always learn the cost before agreeing the price. The price I ask is simple: never forget the lesser gods." Her eyes have returned to Luke. "No matter what, never forget those of us who have no seat, who are not asked their opinions. Never forget the lesser ones, who are almost forgotten. This is binding on you, in exchange for healing your friend."

"I accept." Luke said. For a moment there was nothing, then he doubled over, and clutched his head. "Of course, to never forget them you must know them first." She cackles. "Lesson Two: always ask the conditions and terms of your oaths. A bargain agreed on while blind, is valid even when one can see again, no matter how rotten."

"Just ask your friend. She's had plenty of oaths, of deals and secrets." Styx says before frowning. "The Grey-Eyes-One is crafty. She gets the better of every deal. And you swore blindly. Reckless of you, Conductia." Styx touches Annabeth's forehead and murmurs something. The girl relaxes as her pain fades away. "You are safe here, on land. Your exit is not far, and you should not be troubled along your route. I bid you rest and watch your words. Oathbreakers I do not treat lightly." She turns to leave before pausing and looking back at me.

"If you want to know, they did break their vows. You were in the right, and they broke contract. All of them. I know you were fond, but they all are ut-laga. Waer-lok."

"I understand." I say, with tears coming to my eyes. "Just, don't drag it out? Please?"

"For you, I give you my word." We bow, and she is gone when we look up. Luke busies himself checking on Annabeth, and Thalia pulls me aside.

"We need to talk. She called you conductia. That's not Greek. Who are you!?" She demanded, the tip of her fingers sparking.

"There are much larger oaths at play here, and I literally cannot tell you everything, lest I want to be dissolved by the goddess we just met. I made a promise to heal your friend, gave away a favor to someone who is rather calculating in her dealings."

"You mean-"

"You **cannot** say her name. But yes." I nod.

"Why?"

"Could you sit idly while someone suffered in front of you? I cannot. If I can help…"

"She owes you then." Thalia concludes.

"She does. I hope I never have to collect."

"I- I could assume her debt."

"You're a kind soul, Thalia Grace. But in this, you cannot assume her dues. I'm sorry." I say softly.

"So, tell me what you can about" she waves her hand awkwardly, "all of this."

"Well, um, this is the grotto of the styx, a meeting point of the rivers of the underworld. As long as we don't touch the waters, we will be just fine. The Styx is the soul eater, the Lethe makes you forget, Acheron will keep you alive, but in suffering. The Cocytus is called the river of lamentations, as it is filled with your regrets and the things you've lost. Lastly, the phlegethon is the river of fire. It leads to tartarus." I explain.

"That's not what I meant." She says, punching my arm. "Who's your divine parents?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" she asks in disbelief.

"It's not like everyone in the legion is claimed!" I hiss back, her words sparking old hurts. Claims that I wasn't good enough. That I didn't deserve what I had earned because not even my parent thought I was worth claiming.

"The legion?" Thalia mouths. I flush.

"Not a word." I whisper. "The order came from High places after the civil war- no one was to know of the other side. We could both be killed for knowing."

"This is so rebel." She giggles back.

"Hey, girls, I found us some weapons!" Luke shouts. He's crouched in front of one of the rivers and is pulling out a sword and a spear.

'Wait!" I shout, but he's already reached in.

"Oh." He says quietly as tears start to fall. "Mom…" he sniffles.

"Thalia, keep him from jumping into anything." I order, grabbing the weapons and calling my gauntlets to form. With my arms protected, I plunge the celestial bronze into the lethe, praying this works. When I pull them back out, they don't look any different, but they feel lighter. When I turn around, Thalia is sitting on him, a bruise forming around one eye.

"He tried to jump in." she explains. "Still is." She comments, ignoring his struggling. I place the weapons on a rock and bite my lip in thought.

"Lis? Would the Acheron snap him out of this?" Thalia asks.

"Technically yes, but he probably wouldn't survive it. He'd likely melt in the waters."

"What about a sip?"

"He'd probably be alright." I admit. She tosses me the cap of her water bottle. "Do it."

I carefully fill the cap and carry it back, where she forces his mouth open.

"Sorry Luke, this is going to burn." Thalia says, letting me pour it in his mouth and clamping her hand over it until he swallows. She rolls off of him just in time for his to scream and thrash, eyes bulging wide as it burns in him. He comes back to himself after a moment, coughing roughly and rolling over.

"What happened?" he moans.

"You reached into the Cocytus. It's the river of sorrow. I had to stop you from diving in." Thalia says.

"If you'd submerged, you would never resurface. You'd just stop feeling anything but sadness and grief." I add.

"We had to dose you with the Acheron." At his empty look I clarified, "Suffering."

"I washed the weapons with in lethe. Hopefully, they're cleansed now."

Thalia gave a curious look, "Wouldn't the styx have been better?"

"I don't care to test if I can survive the styx with my armor. It's forged of my will, of my spirit. Styx eats spirit." I answer, passing her the spear.

"This feels. It feels really good." She admits, whirling the blade around.

"You'll need some training, but it suits you well." I admit, holding out the sword for Luke to take. He's hesitant but takes the blade.

"It shouldn't bite." I tease. He takes a few practice swings, but his energy is drained from the rivers.

"Shall we call it?" Thalia asks him, seeing him flag.

"Yeah, I think so." He admits, switching his machete for the sword.

"I'll keep my eyes open." I find myself saying, wanting some time for my thoughts without observation. Thalia checks on Annabeth before curling up nearby, watching the younger girl. Luke settles in by the rocks, watching both of them. I climb up on the pile, finding a niche near the top where it isn't too uncomfortable. My eyes drift closed, and the world fades.

" _Master Sergeant Whitlock, a word." The man is in full uniform, buttons and medals swinging as he walks to a large tent._

 _"Sir?" You asked to see me?" the other man, who I assume is Whitlock asks, coming to a crisp halt._

 _"I need you to take this hill." The man says bluntly._

 _"With what forces, sir?" he asks._

 _"Son," The other man says, clapping a hand on Whitlock's shoulder, "With your gifts, you don't need more men. You can do it yourself. Why are you asking to get other people killed? You can only protect yourself with that armor- you know that."_

 _"Sir," he swallows drily, "I don't know if I'm strong enough to take it alone. After the last fight, they know sir. They know what I am. They see me, and they'll reinforce. Sir, they'll kill me." He says voice full of fear._

 _"Then you'll die a hero or die a traitor." The man snarls, fingers falling toward a pistol. "You take that hill, or I'm drawing you up for desertion."_

 _"Sir! Please, no. I'm not a deserter!" Whitlock protests._

" _Then you'd better get marching. You have your orders."_

 _I watched as Whitlock stumbled from the tent, dazed and in shock. A few soldiers greeted him, and he settled back down where he started at a campfire._

 _"Matt, what is it?" One of his friends asks. "Do we have orders? Can we go home?"_

 _"The general wants one more thing before he'll let us go." Matthew says, "he wants me to take the hill."_

 _"Matt, that's suicide! Besides, you know he'll just have one more thing for you to do, and then another." His other friend shouts. "I say its time we leave. They can't really stop us, can they?"_

 _Matthew shakes his head. "I won't be a traitor. I won't."_

 _"Then we're with you." His friend says, pouring the rest of his bowl into the fire. "Let me grab my gear."_

 _The vision blurs and refocuses, sometime later._

 _Matthew is at the foot of the hill, smoky pale gold armor wrapped around him. Bullets bounce off of it, sword thrusts get pushed aside. He marches forward, his own sword flashing as he cuts through the enemy soldiers. Only one friend stands with him, wild faced and angrily throwing flame. The duo cut through the defenses, burning through fortifications and invulnerable to attacks. They crest the peak of the hill, and the enemy fades away. One man stands before them, his grey coat muddied and bloodied, but the red-head is standing._

 _"Turn around. You will go no farther." He announces, raising a large Warhammer._

 _"We have orders to take the hill. Retreat, and we will not hurt you." Matthew says._

 _"I can't let you do that." The man says, letting the hammer fall from his shoulder to his hands. The man draws a line in the mud with his foot and steps over it, closing his eyes in a brief prayer._

 _Matthew squeezes his eyes shut and says, "I'm sorry." He pulls a sword from the air and flies forward. The two whirl around each other, Matthew unable to get in a hit and the man unable to drive him back. When Matthew's friend jumps into the fray, lunging at the man's unguarded back, Alyssa can feel that this was the end._

 _But not in the way she had thought. The redhead ducked and spun, letting Matthew impale his friend, before swinging the hammer. The blow caught them both in the legs, audible cracking through their bones. They fell._

 _"Matty, turtle up. I'm giving it all I got." Was the whisper._

 _"No! No! No-" Gold armor tightened, becoming almost solid as the hilltop exploded, heat pouring down the slope as the son of Hephestus fed his life to the forgefire. The clay underneath them baked, and it had to look like another sun had been born atop this hill. When the flames died down and the smoke cleared, Matthew came out of his shell. His friend was gone. Nothing but ash, seared away. He rolled over with a groan._

 _"Damn you John." He whispered, climbing to his feet. Matthew was ready to start back down when he heard the unthinkable: something survived._

 _"I'm sorry he died, but I warned you." The redhead said, standing from behind the hammer. It had been thrust into the ground and shielded the man from the immolation. "Will you retreat now?"_

 _In a rage, Matthew flew at the redhead, fury making him reckless. He took blows this time, his armor cracking and breaking, but so did the other man. Cuts and burns dotted them, sparks shot out and were twisted away by pale gold._

 _Finally, it ended. Matthew laid on the baked clay, shattered and thrown about by the fight. The redhead was dead. The hill was taken. Matthew was exhausted. He figured he had a minute to rest before returning triumphantly. In the distance he saw a flash from the artillery camp._

 _ **Thump thump. Thump. Thump.**_

 _He watched as the shells flew up high and then started coming down._

 _In the last few moments of his life, Matthew Whitlock realized that he had never been supposed to go home. He was always supposed to die out here. He just never expected it to be at his own forces hand. The general would never have let him go. He was a greedy SOB._

 _The shells impacted. Nothing remained alive on the hill._

 _"Sir, the hill has been taken. No casualties."_

 _"Good work."_


	4. End of the Line

Lady Styx, for all her trickery and reputation, did not lie. The path forward was both empty and linear, with every side branch blocked off. No creatures bothered us in the grotto or along the winding corridors, not that it stopped Thalia and I from being vigilant. It was mutually acknowledged that neither was going to ask the other about the bags under our eyes, and Luke was our rearguard with Annabeth draped over one shoulder.

The Capitoline Tunnels ended at a locked door, which Luke popped open after a couple tries. Past the door was the basement of what appeared to be a bakery. The ovens were going, and the smell of fresh bread woke all of our appetites.

"I'll grab us some food, you two find a table where we won't be overheard." I say, tugging the mist to cover us coming out of a back room we definitely had no place being in.

The line moves quickly, but its long enough that I can get a feel for the place. The number and appearance of the customers tells me that its likely the pre-work rush, businessmen and professionals seeking their breakfast. After I order and am waiting for them to call my name, I snag a paper from a table and check the news.

The first thing I note is the date; we were in the tunnels for six days. The others won't be happy. Second, we're in Philadelphia. Not far from New York, but not that close either. Lastly, our escapades in DC haven't gone unnoticed. There's an active manhunt for a terrorist who used some sort of sonic weapon on the steps of the Capitol, and the other three's faces are plastered on the back page under the moniker of missing children.

"So, I've got good news and bad news." I say, dropping the plate of bagels on the table. The two of them picked the window table, which works decently enough, as the decal on the shop's front window makes IDing us difficult, and there isn't anyone sitting near us at the moment. Not the best choice, but decent enough for new recruits, 6/10.

"First, Annabeth is better, but she's still not 100%." Luke complains, taking a bagel. "What was the use of taking that goddess' deal?"

"Shouldn't we be asking you that?" Thalia snarks, glaring at the son of Hermes over her own bagel. "You're the one who jumped to swear an oath."

"Luke, Thals, easy. Take two to eat some. You're both hungry, and its showing. She's on the mend, and I would guess she's going to be 100% this afternoon. Now, we've got mixed news. Which do you want first?"

"Bad?" Luke asks.

"It's been six days since we entered the tunnels." I announce quietly.

"SIX DAYS!" Thalia shouts, drawing plenty of looks.

"You're also reported as runaways and are in the paper." I hiss, waving away the attention her shout gathered.

"How the hell were we down there six days?" Luke hisses, "we slept one night."

"Well, I guess something about the magical passageway that warps time and space made things a bit weird. We also ran into a lovely lady who could have messed things up more. I'm just happy we made it out alive." I snap.

"What's that good news then?" Thalia asks.

"We're in Philly. If anyone was tracking us, they're long gone. Plus, Philly is closer to our destination." I say.

"Our destination?" Luke asks.

"Yeah?" I say. "Olympus."

"Olympus is a bust. Nothing there that can help us." He says. I scrunch my nose and think. My plan had been to get them close and then cut them loose. I didn't know where exactly their camp was, but I knew it was near mt Olympus. They had to have some method of collecting demigods. Probably not Lupa or anything like her, as she was decidedly roman, but they had to have something. The closer I got them, the more likely it should be that they were discovered. But if they had been here before and nothing happened…

"We've got trouble." Thalia whispers, drawing my attention. Two tables down, two men in business casual are glancing at their paper than at us.

"Alright, last bites. We've got to move out." I say, standing up to run interference. "C'mon you two, we're going to be late for class!" I say loudly, making a show of picking up Annabeth while they finish stuffing the leftovers into their bags.

The moment we're out of the bagel shop and out of view, we ditch the main roads and wind into the alleys.

"Okay, so in the name of sharing, I'm headed to Olympus." I say.

"What are you going there for?" Luke demands.

"I'm applying for a library card."

"Don't lie to us." he snarls.

"Luke, I think she's being honest." Thalia says.

"There's a backup of all the accumulated knowledge of the gods in New Orleans. But they don't let just anyone in. If I can find someone to sponsor me, maybe I can get access and get a few questions of mine answered." I explain.

"Like what?" Luke asks.

"That's personal." I say firmly.

"We deserve to know." He says petulantly, crossing his arms.

"Mm, yeah, no. No, you don't. You don't _deserve_ to know anything about me. If I want to tell you something, maybe I share. But, at least I've been honest about what I'm hiding."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Thalia asks, torn between the two of us.

"Ask him. Ask him what happened in Shreveport." I say. Immediately, Luke flushes.

"Nothing happened in Shreveport." He snaps.

"No? Nothing happened? You mean there isn't a man, still in a coma in the hospital? You mean there wasn't an attempted carjacking that nearly costed him his life?"

"Luke?" Thalia asks quietly.

"I was desperate, okay? They'd been hunting me for weeks, chasing me wherever I went. I just wanted to escape, to get away. It wasn't my fault. I didn't know, I didn't expect-"

"You nearly killed him and then you ran. You're wanted in six states. You don't make demands, not when you are the greatest liability to this group." I'm harsh, but this is necessary. Actions have consequences- one of the first things the legion teaches all new recruits.

I turn and start walking, not caring if they follow or not. Philly is close enough that whoever is recruiting demigods has to know they're here. I hear footsteps behind me, and Thalia catches up, Annabeth tucked on her back, still asleep.

"Wait up." She says, shifting Annabeth. "Look, I didn't know about Luke. Truth be told, he's moody and suspicious, and nothing is ever good enough. But, he's one of us. I told him we'd meet him in a few hours at Independence Hall. But we, we're going shopping. I need the break, and I think you do too. Plus, Annabeth needs something new. No school would let her in with these rags."

While not happy that Luke is still around, though I cannot abandon him in good conscious, I can appreciate Thalia's actions. She's doing her best to keep the group together, and to take care of everyone. I wasn't fair to Luke when I blasted his secrets, but my search is a bit of a sore spot for me. It's one thing to choose to tell someone, entirely another to have someone demand to be told.

Thalia leads me down another couple streets, obviously with some destination in mind. We pop out in a small outlet facing a consignment store.

"This should help some. If they don't have anything, I've got the address of three more." She says, grabbing my elbow and pulling me in.

The inside of the store is colorful, with things tucked away in every direction without any organization. The place has furniture and appliances, clothing and book and movies and music and all sorts of strange knick-knacks. While I focus on Annabeth, Thalia makes it her mission to find me something new. I'm testing the material of anything in her size, debating color and durability and fit, all the while Thalia is throwing shirts and skirts and dresses and pants and scarves at me.

"Thals? Really? This is sheer. I couldn't wear this without being picked up for indecency."

"Thals, that's a Halloween costume. I'm not sure what to think that you believe I can pull off sexy bumblebee, but no."

"Thals, this is a lampshade."

"Thals."

Before long, I'm laughing and having a good time. Thalia for all her jokes has pulled up some nice things. There's a summer dress that I like, but its too flimsy to really consider. She found a shirt donated from somewhere with a pair of die and 'Alea iacta est' on the back, but it was too tight for me. A couple jeans, but they're too pricey for our limited funds. I almost grab a pair of cargo pants, but her disapproving look makes me drop them. In the end, the first store is a bust, aside from a pair of boots for Annabeth.

The next store is better organized, which makes things easier to search through, but less fun. There was something about Thalia throwing random things at me that was pleasurable. I find a green day shirt for Thalia in the back of a bin, and the hug she gives me takes the wind out of me. She leaves me with Annabeth to change. Annabeth, who's woken a couple times but is groggy, doesn't fuss too much when I stuff her into new clothes, testing the fit of some of the things I find. We smuggle out a sturdy sweater for Annabeth, mindful of the approaching colder months.

The next consignment shop is locked and closed permanently, but that doesn't really stop us. There are no cameras or alarms that we can find, so be break in the back and turn the place over. Its there that we replace Annabeth's shredded jeans with a newer pair. She's going to have to wear a belt with them, but they'll fit for a while. Thalia, still searching for something new for me, is running wild through the bins. I on the other hand, have a small pile of things for the three of us, and even a few things that might fit Luke.

"What'cha got here?" Thalia asks.

"That's a belt and jacket for Luke. If you want to keep him, then its best to make sure he'll live."

"This is a pile for you to go through-" before I can finish, she's tearing through them, rejecting most. I'm not surprised- Thalia is a bit more picky when it comes to her apparel. She's got a strong theme going, and I can't begrudge her for sticking to it. She grabs the two pairs of pants that are left and vanishes toward the bathrooms. Annabeth is curled up on a pile of discarded maternity clothes, quiet and calm. For a moment, I remember the legion. One of my friends volunteered at the school in camp, and I'd bring him lunch. I can still picture the young faces looking at me- she'd fit right in. If only I could take them to the legion- if they wouldn't be killed on sight. They'd be safe there. Thalia'd be fast tracked to command, with her drive and power. Luke would too, but he'd be forged first into a good soldier- one who follows orders and doesn't fight. One who trusts those around him. And me, I'd be home. Without realizing it, I'm sitting on the floor by the counter, sobbing. I just miss it so much. And I can never go back. I have no home. Nowhere I belong. Lost, cast away, adrift, untethered. What's to stop me from just disappearing? Would anyone miss me if I did?

I'm not surprised when Thalia wraps her arms around me, but I am grateful for them. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't need to. Annabeth wakes and joins us, not understanding why, but able to empathize anyway.

I don't manage to try anything at that store, but its alright. We're running late to meeting up with Luke. The last store is on the way, so we stop by for an instant. Just a quick peek. But, something catches me eye. It's buried in the rack of jackets, literally drowned by the volume of the others, but I spot it. Black leather, size 4, gently used. Thalia's size. I'm quiet as I grab it and check the tag.

It's pricey. Too pricey for us. I almost put it back when I hear her.

"I found you something." Thalia says from behind me.

"Same here." I say, turning around. Thalia holds a silver bracelet, one of those tacky friendship ones. But this one isn't tacky. It's small and quiet, and half full of charms. A moon and a star, a lightning bolt. An owl. A compass.

"That's…" I trail off. It's too accurate. Too close to be chance. A moon, Diana. Lightning, Thalia. Owl, Annabeth and Minerva. Compass, my old home as a pathfinder. The only one not explained is the star, but that doesn't mean it isn't planned.

"It's perfect for you." Thalia says, taking my silence for confusion or thought. "It's got me and Annabeth already. I found it in the pocket of the jacket over there." I follow her gaze to the jacket, a blue striped affair, crisp and starched. A military dress jacket. Three guesses who planned this.

"Yeah, it is. I found this." I hold up the jacket, and Thalia's eyes light up.

'Ohmigod its perfect." She gushes.

The way she's carrying on, I can't tell her that she has to put it back. Not when I look down and see that the bracelet is already on my wrist.

"So, one issue." I whisper in Thalia's ear. "we can't really cover the jacket. You ready to break for it?"

Thalia surreptitiously looks around. "I've got no one watching. Shall we?" We link arms and walk out of the shop, the detectors by the door just buzzing softly as they reset, and we walk through.

"Let's go find Luke." She says, keeping her arm linked in mine. "We have gifts!"

In the back of my mind, an old prophesy bubbles forward pushing aside all other thoughts and my cheer vanishes.

 _Beware of Greeks bearing gifts._


	5. Paths and Choices

Luke was not happy to have been left behind, but he was waiting for us at the hall. His sour mood grew slightly better when I thrust the bag of clothes in his face, but only by the smallest of margins. I guess he knew how to hold a grudge.

"Some new digs. Might want to update." I keep a level tone and am proud of it. He and I will probably never get along- I'm guilty of snap judgements and sticking with them far longer than I should. And Luke simply did not impress me. His scowl softened enough to cough out a thanks, and he walked where we could not follow: the men's room.

Luke walks back out a few tour groups later, the plastic bag tied neatly and hanging from his wrist.

"Thanks, Thals. These are pretty good." He says, pointedly ignoring me.

"Actually-" Thalia starts before I but in.

"Hey, Annie, want to see the liberty bell?" I ask the girl, who's rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"Yeah!" She cheers, and I let her down. She starts babbling about the bell and the hall we're in, and I let her cheer distract me from the sinking feeling in my gut. Annabeth manages to talk us into one of the tours on her own, no mist or bribery involved. As we wander through, Luke keeping an eye on Annie, who's leading the tour much to the guide's chagrin, Thalia drops back to speak with me.

"So, why'd you cut me off back there?" She whispers. "He should know it was you who thought to look for him."

"You're the one he's traveling with. Anything to keep him around and happy will be better in the long run. I'm useful in that I know things and can fight. He doesn't like me, but he respects me enough to let me stick around." I murmur, and an uneasy silence rests for a moment. "If he decided to push you away and go solo, what would you do?" I ask, shielding us from the tourists.

"I-" She rakes a hand through her hair. "Shit, I don't know. I guess I'd stick with Annie, iof he didn't' try to take her. I wouldn't make her choose. Together, we're not that bad off, but-"

"You'd have more trouble. Both with monsters and mortals." I fill in.

"Yeah. He's useful for things." She admits, chewing the edge of her lip.

"I don't think you have to worry about it, but it never hurts to think ahead." I throw in when she really looks concerned.

"What about you?" she asks, pushing the question back on me.

"Me? I'll be alright if you all split or we get split. I am a- was a, um, seasoned warrior. Plus, I've got a couple years on you. It wouldn't be as hard for me. People wouldn't judge as much." I shrug, before thinking about it and coming to a conclusion. "Point of advice, if you and Luke get split and you've got Annie, dye her hair to match yours. Play sisters. It'll get more sympathy."

"Right, thanks." Thalia says, bobbing her head. "So, if Luke splits on us, are you ditching too?" she tries to hide it, but I can hear the quaver in her voice.

"Thals, unlike him, I actually **like** you and Annie. If Luke goes the way of the lone wolf, then I'm sticking with you. I've traveled with you this far haven't I?" I wink at her and she ducks her head.

"Thanks Liss. I- I appreciate it." She says, the smile she shoots me lighting the room. It's easy to forget that she's just a kid really. She hasn't been through basic, through legion training. She's just been wandering and surviving on her own or with Luke and Annie for months. It certainly couldn't have been easy, but it just doesn't have the same rigor that the legion does. She's tough, grown up on the streets, a real survivor, but we're taught more in the legion. We're raised on how to not just survive, but how to thrive.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Besides, I got an ace for you up my sleeve if the worst happens. Somewhere near here, at least within 200 miles is your home. Camp, fort, whatever. Someplace safe where you can be trained. Worst comes to worst, someone should come find you. If not, head for New York. Olympus is up high, but you should be able to see it. You get there and the gods can't ignore you. They'll be forced to do something." I say.

"Luke always told us it was a bust." She confesses.

"Yeah, but he sounds pretty bitter about the council. Sounds like history." We share a look, "Besides, you're the daughter of someone a little more overt and authoritative."

She snorts, "You've got that right. A little bit more pull than the delivery boy." The sky rumbles for a split second. "That plan, it sounds pretty good to me." Thalia says, "All this aimless wandering and searching, the surviving and scavenging, it's killing me. The freedom sounds great, but I haven't slept slept in years. Or had three straight full meals. Someplace to call home sounds amazing."

"I bet it does. And your place has to be easier than the L- the normal out west. Out there is a trial by fire to see if you can cut it. Think ancient Sparta."

"Ancient Sparta?"

"They used to leave children out in the wild- if they lived they were warriors, but if they died, then they weren't meant to live, were they?" I explain. "We have to be tough. Any weak spot in the line is asking for people to be killed." I explain, trying to defend something I've never truly believed in. Something pricks at the edge of my vision, or I hear something, or there's a bad smell, whatever it is, something is off. "Thals, I've got a bad feeling. Be ready to grab Annie and run if anything happens. Don't worry about me, just get safe."

Thankfully, rather than get upset at being told to run from a fight and letting her ego run wild, Thalia listens. She slips into the crowd near Annie and checks her weapons, keeping her head on a discreet swivel. Luke picks up on the tension and drifts to the outskirts of the group. I mirror his movements and between the two of us we cover the group of mortals and demigods. There's no question that Luke is an asshole, but he does know what he's doing. He's not one to listen to others, or at least not me, but he can keep himself intact.

The tension comes to a head when we enter the hall leading to the bell. There's another tour group exiting that isn't supposed to be there. The previous group was nearly ten minutes before us, so they should have cleared out long before. Something else niggles in the back of my head, but I don't see anything. Subtly waving my hand in legion shorthand, I signal, 'potential monster, careful.' Of course, none of them know shorthand, and they all drift together, presenting a single target to whatever is out there. I have to suppress the sigh of annoyance. _'They don't know any better.'_ I remind myself. We round the staircase slowly, and my trepidation grows.

At the top of the stone stairway is a platform, small, but ringed with stone to lean on. It's not that far above the roof below, though the roof is slanted pretty heavily. Annie and the other tourists are oohing and ahhing over the sights, the flustered tour guide finally able to say something the little girl doesn't already know and is running through his spiel. It's calm and quiet.

Something flickers in the corner of my vision as I turn, and I whip my head back to look at it. The arch is clear and empty, with nothing in it. I try to relax, but everything in me is screaming. I'm looking the other way when whatever it is swings down from the roof above us- all I see are the reactions of the mortals. Shock, fear, terror. A few reflect horror, a couple faint and most scream. I whirl around it see a body hanging from the rafter- a mortal from the looks of it. The man's face is trapped in a rictus of pain and he looks awful- bloodied and torn apart. Worst, there are a few bites taken out of him. The crowd surges toward the stairs and I move to follow, but one thing stops me- a familiar malevolence.

"Oh, how delightful, my old dancing partner. Have you been practicing your moves since we last tango'd?" The oily slick voice, the ragged, raw animalistic nature, the putrid smell on its breath. I know this creature.

"Lady Artemis will be sad she missed you. And I wager she's a better dancer than I could ever be." I say, turning and drawing my sword in one motion. "Thalia, get Annie to safety! Luke, to me!" I swing forward and attack the manticore, noting the damage it's taken since I last saw it. It's got two more bloody patches on its chest, and the thick carapace over one of its legs is cracked.

"So, I see you've been dancing without me." I remark, ducking a swing of that massive tail and searching for Luke.

"Well, you rejected me pretty hard last time I asked."

"Still, could make a girl jealous." I say, slicing a thin line up his side. _Where is he?!_

I frantically glance out of the corner of my eyes, searching for the son of Hermes. I barely survived this thing last time- I needed the backup. But the son of travelers had gone the way of his father and booked it from all appearances. Taking a risk, and fearing more monsters, I roll under the next strike from the manticore and look down the stairs. Almost around the bend is the girls and Luke with the tour guide. I see the barest tips of curled horns under the tour guide's hair, and scream.

"It's a trap Thalia!" I shout, trying to chase after them, but the manticore blocks me, scuttling around.

"Luke, we have to help her!" Thalia says behind us.

"He says his name is Grover, and he can take us to safety." Luke says calmly.

"But what about Alyssa?" Annie asks innocently.

"She can take care of herself." I can't see him, but I can hear the smug grin in his voice. He knew what this was, and he was leaving me behind.

"Don't trust the faun!" I shout, desperately blocking a series of jabs and thrusts the manticore launches at me with his stinger and armored legs.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about." Luke says. "Tell you what, I'll come find her once you all are safe." He lies. I can hear it, the manticore can hear it, but somehow Thalia and Annie don't.

"Poor Alyssa, all alone again." The manticore taunts, shoving me bodily back against the rail. "You're cursed you know that? No one will trust you, no one will help you. In the end, they'll all leave you. What's the use in fighting it? I promise your death will be quick. Just lay down your sword and look at the sky."

His offer is likely the most merciful one I'll ever receive. I can hear the honesty in his voice- if I laid my sword down, he'd make it quick. I breathe, and for a moment consider his offer. He's not wrong, per say.

I don't have a home.

No legionnaire will ever trust me.

If Luke is the average Greek, then they are everything the stories told us of they are: arrogant and self-centered, concerned only with their own legend and gain, with no regard for anyone besides themselves. An unwashed rabble of back stabbers and cutthroats, of liars and oath breakers.

It would be so easy to lay down, to give up the fool's errand, to rest. And hadn't that been what I wanted, back at the start of this mess? To die, gracefully, and to let go? I was sorely tempted, exhausted and alone. It wouldn't change anything, were I to give in. I couldn't save Thals and Annie. I couldn't go home. I could struggle and fight, but the odds were not in my favor. Lone demigods did not last long at all- our life expectancy on our own was measured in weeks if not days. Even if I survived this, I would only fall to another monster somewhere in the future. Why should I fight the inevitable?

In the end, it isn't so much my choice to survive as it is to simply spite the damn manticore. He is foul, and loathsome, and even if it kills me, I will see him cast to Tartarus.

In my consideration, I relaxed and let my sword droop. He shifted, easing his stance slightly, and it's all the opening I need. I spring around, catching the rafters of the roof and swing my feet. Both feet connect solidly, and I kick him from the tower, sending him sprawling on the roof below. He lands badly, and something cracks. Balancing on the rail for but a moment, I dive down after him. My sword catches his arm, and I swing into him again, forcing him off balance. He slips on the shale tiles, cracking and throwing them up in a shower of broken rock. With one hand I form my armor, digging the fingers into the roof and swinging my foot in an arc. I catch his chin and he crashes off the edge of the roof, my explosive series of maneuvers overcoming him. I slide to the edge, catch myself on the drainpipe, and look down.

He's hurt, even more now than before. His cracked leg has truly broken, muddy brown ichor dripping and smearing as he drags himself away. One arm is cradled in the other, the elbow snapped through. He bleeds from multiple places, one of which has to be a nasty stab wound.

"Run, but you'll never hide." I scream, raising my sword. He looks back, and for the first time I see something other than malevolent hunger in his eyes. I see- fear?

He swears and scuttles off, but I'm not worried. He'll leave a trail. He has no choice but to run- especially as I blow the horn Khyra slipped me. I climb back to the top of the roof and manage to get someone to let me in through a window. I duck away from their concern and slip back up to the roof.

Up there, she's waiting for me.

"I see you found our quarry before we did. Again." Diana says, arms crossed and looking unimpressed. I know better.

"Seems I'm cleaning up your mess again." I say, for once defiant. Maye it's the fight, or the betrayal, or hating and hiding who I am, but I'm done playing soft. ' _Or,'_ I think, ' _maybe it's just her effect.'_ If I close my eyes, I can feel it, the smell of open air, of campfire and sweat. Of dirt and moss and trees- wild creeks and the taste of berries on my tongue. The tang of wood smoked fish and grilled venison. The heady, consuming feeling of being free, of being unfettered and unimposed. Of being who you are without anyone else deciding who that is or expecting you to be anyone else. The bitter cry of the wilds, so fleeting and so alluring. The urge to howl at the sky comes unbidden, and I swallow it down.

"So it would seem." She quirks her mouth to hide a frown and I relax, letting the weight of her domain crash over me.

"I'd like some help with a project." I venture, leaning back on the rail.

"I cannot help you with the library." She says, "That is another's right." She uncrosses her arms and her stern demeanor shifts. She loses an inch and a half; the bulging muscle sinks in and she softens just slightly. Noticeably, the silver circlet in her hair loses its razor edge, turning from twisted wire to braided rope. She drops three years of time, and stands little older than I.

"I want to track that bastard down and kill him." I say, as she steps next to me and we look out at the sky.

"You have more than enough skill to do so on your own." She reminds.

"Yes, but he's found me both times. Even when I was looking for him, he found me and ambushed me. What's to say this is any different?"

"I see. Anything else?" Artemis asks, chewing spearmint.

"Annie and Thals." I say with a rush of breath, tasting the wild in the air. The longer she stays, the more potent it gets.

"I cannot interfere." The wild goddess says sadly.

"I'm not asking you to protect them- this trial is their own. But, should it go awry, is there anything you could do?"

"You ask a lot of me, little shade."

"I was recently lectured on loyalty. Some parts of it stuck." I say, looking away from her. A soft hand grips my chin, and she turns me back to face her.

"He was not wholly right, the manticore. You bear a large burden, but there is hope. You do not have to go through this fully alone. The normal paths are closed to you, yes, but you are crafty. The Alyssa I know would not let anything so mundane as a curse stop her." She says kindly.

"I-" I stutter, unsure of what to say, or even what I could say to that. Her touch is soft and warm, like sunshine falling through branches onto your face. A gentle stream burbling through the forgotten woods, peaceful and beautiful.

The corner of her mouth twitches, hiding a fond smile. "I must go if I am to help your friends. The boy I cannot assist, but I will make sure the maidens are guided to the softest path."

"Not soft-" I manage to blurt out, blinking away visions of isolated wood, of the safety to be found in the wilds, in the lost places. I can almost taste the air, free of pollutants and noise. "-not soft or safe. Guide them to the path where they will become greatest." I whisper, leaning into her touch. _Irresistible._

"You may never see them again." She warns, caressing my cheek.

"But they will be their best selves, and that is all I want for them." I answer truthfully, a tear slipping from my eye. She rubs it away with her thumb and smiles at me in earnest.

"Face the broken one on the shoulders of the greatest light. The first leg of your journey is almost complete. And if you are even in doubt, penny for your thoughts." She says cryptically, before stepping away.

She places her hand on my head and closes her eyes, "May your eyes be clear, your nose keen, and your ears sound. May you travel on swift feet and strike nimbly. So long as you hunt, will you enjoy the blessing of the moon." With her final act, she presses a kiss to my hair and shifts. A silver falcon soars off, and I watch as it disappears.

"One leg down, five to go." I mutter, looking at the manticore leg left embedded in the roof. It takes some prying to get it up, but I wrestle it out. It's my only spoil of war from this fight, but it's enough to carry me to the next.

"Next stop, Princeton New Jersey." The driver calls out.

 _Excellent._


	6. Thief

Jersey is nothing special. Not compared to any other place I've been. It's loud and dirty, full of mortals doing as mortals do. Rather forgettable to be honest. The trail of the Manticore lead me to the subway tunnels, down into the swirling labyrinth of trains and abandoned tracks. Maintenanceways and sealed sections and the denizens of the lower realm. It was odd to see mortals clinging to a life buried so deep beneath the streets above, but they kept to themselves. They watched in silence as I passed by, guarded their possessions with wary eyes as I walked past. The mist did little to hide my true form to them; the sword and shield and bow were all plainly visible. My armor clanked little as I progressed, but I could read from their eyes that they saw and heard truly. Was the mist only a tool to fool mortals who needed the truth hidden from them? It certainly was not possible for all of the people down here to be clearsighted. Perhaps those who lived in the below were aware enough to know that such disguises were not necessary. Perhaps there was only truth in these warrens. I didn't know what it was, but it was.

My prey continued further, always ahead of me, but never by far. He could feel my pursuit, could sense how close I was and how I longed to end him. I could taste his fear, could read it in the spatter pattern of his ugly ichor scraped on the walls. I terrified him. I didn't know why I did, could only guess at the reasons, since he had nearly killed me the first time, and if he hadn't dropped his guard, likely would have had me the second as well. But he was screaming and praying for someone to save him.

His trail vanished at a locked door, one that had a glowing delta etched into the center of it. I knew enough to leave the Labyrinth alone. The trail going cold, I climbed back to the surface. Above me was the city, sprawling and loud. And, after so much time spent in the tunnels, bright. Blinking away stars, I stumbled to the side of the street and tried to wait for the disorientation to clear. As the world came back into view through watery eyes, I realized I was not in the city proper. No, I was on the campus. Students passed me by, walking to class. The chaos of a college campus resolved itself into a blur of sound and movement, and I shrank into the corner of the building I was pressed against. Suddenly I was hearing Greek, and Latin, and Sanskrit- Mandarin and Japanese and German- I fled into the building, running from the overload of sounds and language.

 _What the hell is this? I don't know any of these!_ I asked in my head, trying to calmly walk down the hallway and disappear. So caught up in my thoughts, on processing the overload of knowing and understanding so much at once, I missed walking straight through the building, across the courtyard, and into another.

"Alyssa, step into my office." The voice, familiar and powerful, cracked though the haze in my head and snapped me up. I looked around, but no one was moving toward the voice.

"Young lady, I am waiting." People were starting to look around, starting to wonder.

 _Surely it can't be me she's referring-_

"I will not ask again, _debitri._ " I then knew it was me she was calling for. Braving the stares from the crowd, I walked into the office and sat in the chair in front of the desk. The woman sat behind the desk, wearing a sharp blazer and buried behind a computer.

"You are lucky, conductia." She started. "I had planned on holding your favor for a long time, on weighing it for the right moment, the opportune time. I was going to get the most out of our little deal. But fatua interferes." She looks up, and grey eyes lock onto mine. "Hello Alyssa. Its time for you to pay your debts."

"Lady Minerva." I say, feeling inadequate in the seat, with the weight of her judgement on me. "I will pay you your due, have no fear."

"An honest Speculatores, no wonder they let you go." She comments, and I pretend she hasn't just ripped a hole in my heart, hasn't torn off a bandage and salted an open wound. "I require you to deliver something. There is a scroll at this university from Alexandria- the one in Africa, mind you. You will deliver it to Olympus by the end of the week. And when you are allowed into the halls of learning in New Orleans, you will retrieve something else for me. I'll tell you what when you are closer then."

"You want me to steal something and smuggle it to you, and then you want me to steal for you again? Is that what I'm hearing?" I accuse, tasting bitterness in my throat.

"You will do whatever I command you to do, you insignificant worm. Your deadline shall be the pre-judean week, now. Insolence is not tolerated." She spat, standing so fast her chair flew into the wall and shattered. Towering over me, Minerva snarled. That was all the warning I got before she glowed and vanished, her godly form leaving smoking imprints in the desk. All around me the lights burst and the machines ground to a halt. The smoke alarm started clanging as smoke filled the air. Loud shouts erupted as students and faculty alike scrambled to get out of the building.

I follow the chaos, students shouting and coughing as they wander out of the hazy hallways. I'm shorter than most of them and manage to duck under a tree and escape the confusion. Minerva's words are ingrained into my head. I'm going to have to be a thief again. To steal from good people- at the behest of a prideful and vengeful goddess. I hate being used, but in this I have no choice. I made my bed, now I have to lie in it.

A few hours pass as I wander campus and quietly seek out where my target is. The scroll is not in the rare book's library, nor stored in the museum. It isn't buried in the archives, nor tucked away in any secret place. There's just a handful of places it could be left in. I'm walking to the next one when a voice stops me.

"Hey, I've seen you wandering around all day. Thinking about coming here? I won't lie to you, this place has some nice parts to it. But, there are some serious downsides. I'm Ashley, what's your name?"

"I'm Alyssa." I say, turning to face the voice. Ashley is a short brunette, gray eyes, sporty build and cheerful smile.

"Nice to meet you Alyssa! What've you been doing wandering around all day by yourself? Surely someone's brought you here." she asks trying to mask the concern in her voice with friendliness.

Thinking fast, I cough up an excuse, "My brother goes here. He was supposed to show me around, but he ditched me for some party."

"Brothers." She scoffs, the concern fading away. "Want to grab dinner? I'll give you the whole 411 on this place."

I smile and follow her to the dining hall, where she swipes us both in, greeting the lady behind the counter by name. She guides me though the slog of options and we fight to snag a table alone.

"So, I'm sure you know the basics." Ashley starts. "Founded in 1746, Ivy League, yada yada. What you want is the juicy stuff. Greek Life is strong, but not predominant. Our sports teams are decent, but nothing exceptional. Parties are common, but not intrusively so. Professors are largely nice, but overall require class attendance. The food, as you can taste, is good, but not great. But anyone can tell you that."

"The guys here come in two classes: family money and brains. Money tends to be educated but pull them outside of their tutoring and they'll flop. Good for a stable life, but not a challenging one. The brains will either sweep you off your feet or flop so hard you'll think this is a belly flop competition. They can drop you under the table if you debate with them but expect some work if you want to take them anywhere not literary minded." Ashley takes a few bites of salad. "With me so far?"

"Opportunity. This place reeks of it. But, it has a price tag. In here, nothing is free. You want an internship? Better have something to trade. A research grant? You'd better know someone with strings. Dad was worried that as a girl I'd have to earn it all on my knees, but, while that's an option, there's other paths. Instead, the best option to getting somewhere is credit. Add them in your paper, recommend them for a publication. Scratch my back, scratch yours kinda deal."

"You talked about opportunity but didn't mention anything." I prompt.

"She's listening! Point for you, girlie!" Ashley crows. "We've currently got three special projects that I know of going on. One, major analytic expose on sleep and productivity. Two, a revolutionary bridge design. Lastly, the antiquities department has an actual scroll from the Library of Alexandria. It was pulled out a hidden cache buried unde the Nile. Translation has been difficult, but it is progressing. Some real earthshaking stuff!" Ashley says proudly.

I listen politely, and ask more questions about housing and tuition, and how the student body reacts. I ask about drugs and violence, and anything else I can think of, but I already found what I was looking for. Ashley parts with me by the entry to the dining hall, off to study for some test while I claim I'm meeting my brother. Once clear of her, I reorient myself and set off for the antiquities building.

The antiquities building is small and unassuming, but as I slip inside, I realize why: it's half underground. Getting past the security locks is straightforward, but not easy. While I am used to slipping around places and getting to where I shouldn't be, this is a place where no amount of attitude is going to cut it. I obviously don't belong. I hit the button for the elevator to the bottom floor, where the rare document lab is, but the elevator refuses to move. Annoyed, I head for the stairs. While the door is locked, nothing stops me from cutting through the lock. I don't hear an alarm, but that doesn't mean there isn't one. I race down the stairs and burst through the lower door. There's one more locked door between me and the scroll.

The final door is sealed, and the scanner for access looks like a biometric reader, which I'm never getting past. Not without force. With no other options, and at least one alarm likely already tripped, there's no choice but to break through. I tug my shield onto my arm and get a running start. At the last moment I jump into the glass, letting the shield hit the surface first. By some lucky measure, I break through on the first go. The glass clatters to the ground, shards spraying everywhere. I brush some off my clothes as an alarm sounds, wailing about a breach in containment. I grab the scroll and carefully tuck it into a protective bag, sealing it and stuffing it away. With the alarm blaring, and not even remotely fitting in, I have to get out of here.

I race past a series of doors, hearing footsteps on the stairs. I take cover behind a trashcan in the hall beyond a door with "Dr. Reese Hall" written on in. Underneath that is "Asst. A Harding." Shouts ring out as they discover the broken wall to the clean room, and more footsteps come crashing down. The elevator dings and opens, with a couple people in fancy clothes stepping out. I wait for the right moment, then dash for the doors as they close.

"Hey! Stop you!" someone shouts as I slide into the elevator and frantically key the button. The doors close and the elevator rises just before they can stop it. I brace myself to fight as the floors tick by, preparing to run for it once they open. The elevator stops and with a ding the doors open- I sprint out, rushing past the guy standing by the panel and burst through the front doors. I slam into someone, and we both go rolling down the steps. I scramble to my feet and dash. Before I can turn, the girl I crashed into looks up as well. Ashley and I's eyes meet in the dim evening light, and I can see the shock and confusion on her face, just as easily as she can read the shame and panic in mine.

"Γιατί?" she whispers.

 _"Why?"_

The moment ends and I sprint away as fast as I can, leaving the girl who was so nice to me bruised and bleeding on the stone steps, her life crumbling around her.

* * *

I throw myself into the subway, letting the wash of people disguise me enough to disappear for a little while. I think of Ashley and I curse in my head. Another person to haunt me at night when I can't sleep. Another soul I've destroyed doing what I do. It burns me, but she's my cross to bear. I did that. Me.

I slip out of the car two stops later, and wander through the streets for a bit to throw off any pursuers. It will take them time to find me, if they're looking for me. When I deem it long enough, I make my way to the train tracks and wait. Soon enough, a cargo haul comes around the bend and I can hop on. Headed North East, this should take me exactly where I need to go.

So fresh my betrayal, I can't sleep. I leave the scroll in its bag as well. I'm curious, but I know it's not worth the risk of it getting damaged. The air is cold, and the shaking hurts my back as it digs into the steel of the container. All things I deserve.

New York- city of Lies, city of Secrets, and city of unpaid debts. There was nothing drawing me to her, besides my duties. Nothing. What could the place possibly hold that would interest me? Olympus was no place for an outcast, and too much dwelled in the shadow of the mountain for it to be safe.

Then my nose twitched, and I smelled a familiar stink. He was close. Emerged from the underground not far from here. I smiled, predatorily. Now there was a reason to look forward to New York. The Hunt was on.


	7. Hunter

I look up from under the ball cap and my breath catches. On the TV through the window is my face. Wanted. It's a good sketch, almost photographic in detail. Every line, every stroke, all of it is exacting, is perfect. I have to remind myself that I cannot ask for a police sketch, no matter how good it is. **Wanted in connection with the heist of priceless artifacts** the byline reads. I turn away and shove my head down, immediately walking in a direction, doesn't matter which one.

I had lost the trail in Queens. He was clever, my prey, slipped through a slaughterhouse and then a camp of harpies. I had slain them all easily, but in the confusion, the trail I had been following had vanished. The smell of mortals blocked out godly scents, but it worked both ways. While monsters couldn't smell demigods, so too were demigods hamstrung. Of course, some were better at tracking than others. And, with the blessing of Lady Artemis, I am one of the best. I'd know the moment he steps out of the city, so he's here. Somewhere. Lost in the urban scramble that makes up the city. It's full of lost places, like every other -opolis before it. It has pieces of it that people walk past and never think twice about, forbidden corners holding secrets and lies.

I'm in one of them now, poking through the trash and refuse that has piled up. He's in one of these holes, licking his wounds and healing up. I dealt him a nasty blow in Philadelphia, but he is one of the greater monsters; he'll recover. Weighing heavily in the bottom of my bag is the scroll. I still haven't peeked. It's a debt I owe, and I intend to be honest about it. But my conscience gnaws at me. I have to know why she had me take this. Why would she use her boon so quickly? What could she have found out that would make her act so hastily? Haste was not Minerva's forte.

Before I can be tempted any more, something catches my nose. Something foul and nasty, but a particular kind of nasty. A festering ichor kind of nasty. It's tough to follow, but I manage to crawl and chase it. It leads down the alleyway and under a broken fence. Up a burned-out building and down the fire escape, twists and winds across the subway tracks. I leave a trail of chaos on my wake, people thrown aside and shouts. Someone spots me and screams "it's her!", but I'm gone before they can do anything.

Whirling and screaming down through the tunnels as I burst past a locked maintenance door, shoulder popping the lock and smoothly keeping stride, I disappear into the dark.

If not for the blessing of Artemis, I'd be blind down here with so little light. But, since she has graced me, I can see. It's a struggle with such little light, but I can still see. There's dried ichor on the walls, scratched deep in the claw lines. What I took for trash that blew in is actually the pieces of the room torn apart and cast aside. Tracing the lines, the gouges in the concrete and steel, I can trace the fight. And it was a fight. A brutal one.

My prey took the other one by surprise, caught them unawares. The manticore pounced by the door, whipping around the door and into the room, trapezing with his powerful tail. The other was thrown to the floor and impaled by the legs of my prey, but they lived. Oh, they lived. Lividly. They rolled over and crushed the manticore down, smashed him into the floor. Quickly, they drew back and sliced into him, targeting the hole where his leg used to be. They missed, and his return blow sent them reeling. Judging by the spray of ichor on the ceiling, he hit something vital. But they weren't done. Barely outside of the original impact, they slammed the manticore back into the floor. The splash of foul ichor in the imprint was different. _Did they blunt force crack the manticore shell?_

The fight moved to the side of the room, where the possessions of the occupant were. They tore through them, the parts of a cabinet, a couch, two tables all shattered or sliced apart. Next came the far wall- and the checkerboard it was left in. either the manticore scuttled onto it to dodge, or the other one beat him into it with overwhelming force. After they battered each other, they swung back to the floor for a moment, only for the Manticore to get his feet under him and surprise the other. Taking the advantage, the manticore speared the other with his stinger- though him and into the other wall. It was there that they lost the fight, sliced open and bleeding ichor, half impaled and beaten into a pulp. They passed out then, or at least I hoped they had because if they were awake for the next part-

The manticore started eating them. Chunks ripped out of the corpse, bloody handprints on the wall and floor, but not smeared. Firm and unshaken prints. Unhurried. Dribbles of flesh spread on the floor, half cracked and drained bones. Whatever the thing had been I couldn't tell what it was anymore. It was gone, dead and half eaten. Rising from my crouch, I looked around for anything else, to see if I had missed anything.

I hadn't. This place was nothing but a tomb. Pulling out a tiny jar, capped and sealed carefully, I stood by the door. I opened the jar with utmost care and tipped it ever so slightly. Off the lip dropped three drops of the golden red liquid. It hit the ground and sizzled, running forward until it hit a patch of blood. The moment it found the blood it sizzled to life, roaring to life. The flames consumed the innate magic in the monster's blood and fed, roaring up. After so long I the dark the sudden light was blinding. Consuming the power, the fire grew and leapt forward hungrily. It would eat away the monsters' fight, would clean up the remains. No need to involve the mortals. The vial contained a mixture we found in the ruins of a trashed amazon camp not too long ago. It reacted with blood, with ichor, with power. It consumed, ate away at whatever it touched, as long as it was alive or had been. Dead or alive. In a room like this one, concrete and buried, locked away from prying eyes, it would erase the presence of something more than mortal.

A foul smell grew as I followed the trail through the underground, a rotten and foul scent. But a purely mortal one. The concrete sloped downward, the sides narrowing and the tunnel shrinking. Other branches and exits grew scarcer as the smell got stronger. Soon, I was hunched over and trying not to step in the mess in the middle of the tunnel. I passed a bend and it became clear what I was traversing: a drain. The mouth of the tunnel was tiny, I would barely be able to squeeze through it, but it was where the Manticore had gone. Hoisting my bag up and on the surface of the tunnel, I planted one foot on the lower grate and levered myself upwards, stretching my fingers to grab the edge of the drain above me. I barely got a hold of the lip and knew my fingers didn't have the force I needed to hold my body up and uncontort. My legs were one way while my arms were the other. I had no choice though, as the win blew and the smell of the manticore faded even more into the rot of fish guts. Kicking my legs out, I jumped as best I could, twisting and scraping to drag myself as for forward. The edge of the gap bit into my back and scraped as I dragged it along the rough concrete, but my hands slid forward enough to grab a bit ore leverage. No longer hanging by my fingertips, I could wiggle my hips and flip my wrists to help drag my body up through the narrow gap.

After the rough and painful journey through the gap in the drain, I was successfully out of the storm drain and on the road. Directly in front of me was a drop off leading to a wharf, with boats docked and mortals milling about. Reshouldering my bag and ignoring the twinges of pain in my shoulder where the strap was or my back as it clunked on raw skin, I ducked under the chain and slid down to the docks. The smell of fish and rot was almost unbearable, but I could faintly still smell his stench on the wooden planks. I followed, winding around the docks and buildings, searching carefully. He couldn't be too far away. I turned the last corner of the dock and came to an empty slot. The trail ended on the planking in front of it, the boards imprinted with his scuttling, bit deep by him jumping onto the ship most likely.

I looked around, seeing if there were any options to chase after him, but no one was around to pilot one of the boats, and well…

Neptune and I had a firm agreement not to do the whole ocean thing. He didn't like me on them, and I didn't particularly enjoy them either. They sort of turned my stomach inside out every time I had to go on one. So, I was stuck.

Stuck until a loud blast of a foghorn sounded and a massive ferry berthed not a 100 yards from the docks. In massive letters in the setting sun were the words, "STATEN ISLAND". A stroke of luck, to be sure.

The captain didn't really want to sail back out to the island, he had already cleaned up and was ready to go home, but when I explained that I left my homework on the island- with a little assistance from the mist, he agreed to do a quick run, but not in the ferry. No, instead he insisted that we go by one of the small motorboats. The thing was smaller than most cars, just an engine and a wheel, with practically no space to sit. And it pitched and jerked on the waves, careening all over the place. The heavy bouncing and rocking- I fought it for a bit but soon my stomach disagreed too much.

I spent much of the ride white knuckled on the metal rim, head hanging over the side miserable. The guy let me off on the island with a pitying look. He told me he would wait for a bit, but he had to get home, so if I took too long, I'd be on the island until morning. Apparently, people camped under the statue all the time, so it wouldn't be too odd. I rather queasily thanked him and set off up the mess of stairs, hanging on the railing just to be safe.

He was close, very close. Is foul smell was all over the island, galivanting and gleeful. I didn't understand his mood until I found the first bodies. All of the mortals camping here, trapped on the island with an apex predator they couldn't even see properly. Whatever the mist was coming up with, from the expressions on their faces, it was terrifying.

The trail lead from tent to tent, from one bloody patch of bone and gore to the next. I counted nine people he had devoured, nine souls lost to his thirst and my rash choices. If I hadn't been chasing him so hard, he wouldn't have fled here. His kind did not like enclosed places, which an island certainly counted as. As I crested the last hill, I heard the sound of a boat motor start up, and in the now rising moonlight, I saw the captain of the ferry riding off toward the mainland.

 _'Just him and I.'_ I thought, opening my bag and drawing out my weapons. Mortals did not like seeing people armed, so I had hid them away. Blending in doesn't work too well if you're standing out like a girl holding a machine gun or a baseball bat. I had a sword and shield, plus the bow and arrow from Khyra. Tracking him was easy for the time being, with the blood still wet and sticky. He left a clear trail everywhere he went. What was concerning was the pieces of shell he sloughed off. Small chunks of his keratin dropped and broken off.

He wasn't outside the Statue as best I could tell, not clinging to the bronze or hiding in the fold of her robe. He probably inside. As I grabbed the handle of the door, the sticky residue I pulled back on my hand with confirmed that he came this way. Wiping the blood on my pants, I pressed in. Inside the statue was dark, much darker than the outside. With Artemis blessing, I could see decently, but there was something interfering. Something was pressing on her, was bleeding her blessing. The more time I spent here, the faster her gift would drain from me. With no time to lose, I ran forward, trying to stay as stealthy as I could, but covering ground.

He was not on any of the first two floors, meaning not the gift shop or the ground observation. Given he previous domicile, and where I faced him, he was likely up high. He seemed to enjoy heights. So, I crept through the scaffolding, breaking the lock on the door with a twist of force. The inside of the statue was cramped and dark, raising the creep factor to eleven. In here, I would never see him coming. My only warning would be a face of rancid breath or the drip drip of blood.

I was at the hatch to the top of the statue, unharmed but on edge. There was almost nowhere else he could be but up here. Mentally preparing as best I could, I threw myself forward and burst though the hatch, rolling under his opening blow and raising my shield for his follow up.

But there was no blow, no attack. Instead, I stood in the empty crown of the statue, windows on every side but no manticore. A slight glimpse was my only warning, a red reflection in a widow out of the corner of my eye. I dove forward as the emergency flare split the air where I had been, crashing into the corner of the room before exploding and opening the room to the New York sky. A foul cackle came from outside the windows, and I switched to my bow, training an arrow on the giant hole blown in the wall. A slight whistle came, I dropped to the ground to dodge the trio of spikes tossed my way.

"Aw, I missed again." He goads, scuttling along the outside. Something is different about him, something off. Perhaps it's the flare gun, which most monsters won't touch, being made by mortals. They tend to stay way from technology in its entirety. But he used one on me, tried to kill me with it. Or, rolling away from a sneak attack of more barbs, it's the mobility. There is no way he is this mobile with a leg missing. I spot him coming around the curve of the statue and light the end of one of the arrow on the flare, firing at him as he prepares to throw the spikes. The arrow whizzes past, but I can just make out the legs under his body. He has six again. It had to be all those mortals he consumed, the blood and meat letting him regenerate. The game of cat and mouse continues, him ducking away from my arrows and him equally unable to connect with me from his hiding places. When he doesn't reappear for a while, I suspect some trick. I feel with my feet through my boots, trying to sense the vibrations in the metal. A small clink is my only warning as he surges though the hatch from the scaffolding, unarmed other than his legs and tail. I catch his opening attack on my shield, slicing his chest with my sword. It's a shallow wound, but first blood is mine. It's not a good omen for him. He scuttles around and pushes me back though size and weight, forcing me to the edge of the tower once again. But this time there are no bodies to trip over, and I can pivot cleanly, ducking his blow and diving in to shrug him up on my shield, dumping him on the other side of it easily. On the other side is but open air, but of course he's too crafty for that. On his way out, he grabs my sword and rips it out of my hands, plunging the blade into the bronze of Lady Liberty's toga and slowing his fall enough that his legs catch on.

I rush to grab my bow and, fighting the blessings fading, try to pick him off while he is mostly helpless. But, with the blessing fading and the flare at my feet with acrid, burning smoke, I can't aim properly.

Dark smoke billows from the gilded green statue as comets of lights streak past, narrowly missing the monster clinging to the side of the structure, dodging the fire and advancing in the lulls. I can't hit it before it's too close, throwing itself forward and grabbing at me. I roll, trying to dodge, but it gets an ankle, jerking me off balance before tossing me out the hole in the wall. I narrowly manage to draw my dagger and catch it on the bronze of the torch, the blade sinking deep but holding. I climb up atop the light and flip my blade around. Armed with only a dagger, I stand no chance against him. But I can't surrender the blade and give in. I refuse to not put up a fight all the way until the end. With any luck, I'll give him indigestion and heartburn- even after death I'll fight him.

But a voice booms from the quiet as he lunges forward, and in that moment everything shifts.

He is caught in the air mid-leap, held there by a spectral woman hovering above the statue. Hands on her hips, she leans in and snarls, "You dare defile my shrine you foul creature? **Begone."** __

The manticore is flung from the air into to the bay below, the dark water rejecting his broken body twice before letting him sink into the refuse and pollution. As his body sinks, Artemis' blessing fades away, dripping off my body in slight trails of ichor. He is dead.

Clinging to the side of the monument, lost of all weapons bar my dagger, I let off a soft curse. _'Out of the frying pan…'_

The goddess calms down greatly and thinks for a moment before turning to face me.

"Oh, right, you're still here. Let me help you with this-"

And we're standing in the crown of Lady Liberty, my weapons lain before me, the wind and smoke having vanished.

"So, it's been a long time since anyone stopped by my shrine, like about a hundred years or so? It's not that long to me, but for you mortals that's like, six generations. What's up with that? Do you not like me anymore?" She says, her bright mood fading to a pensive and hesitant one? It's the fist time I've ever heard a goddess ever sound worried and hurt. Wounded, doubting, depressed. It doesn't help that I can't recognize her. Taking a deep breath and knowing that this is like ripping off a Band-Aid, I speak.

"I'm sorry, but who are you? I've met my fair share of deities, but I can't place you." I say, trying to be as gentle as I can.

She bursts into tears, reaffirming that tact is not my strong point.

"How can I be so forgotten and yet still alive? How cursed am I to be torn between the fade and the world? I know they all told me that it would be suffering, would be pain, but it would be worth it in the end, but how was I to know? How can anyone agree to something like this without forewarning? It's criminal, to let anyone consign themselves to suffering such as I. worse still, " She sniffs, "it goes against my domain. It's alien to who I am. My name is Libertas, I'm the-"

"Goddess of Freedom." I say softly, feeling an upwell of hope, of grace, of energy. "I- we thought you were gone. Precious little even remembers you, in the texts and the friezes, and well, everything. I'm so sorry we forgot. You should have been remembered, should have been cherished. I-"

"It was the mortals. The unaware, they kept me alive, if just barely. They don't believe in freedom, not the way your godlings can, but they understood who I am. Their prayers went to the shrine, instead of to me, but it was enough." She says absently, tracing shapes in the stone with a glowing finger.

"Lady Libertas, may I, may I ask why you helped me?" I ask.

"Oh, how could I not? You're so tied down, so constrained by so many promises and oaths. You sought sanctuary in my arms, at the foot of my shrine. Were cleaning it out of that foul corruption who was poisoning it. How could I turn you away, could not help you if I could? I haven't seen Hecate's blessing in so long- the greatest of gifts that adds the greatest weight to its recipients' shoulders. You're torn in so many directions dear- don't shake your head at me! I can see all of the binding on you, all of the things you've sworn. No less than a dozen shackles holding you down, some of which were thrust on you, some of which you've picked up and clutched tightly. You want proof?

Fine. You cling to those demigods you found, wonder at who they are and who they become. They are safe- mostly. It's complicated. The Legion you broke with, they gave you up. The only one holding that chain is you. But your oath to Minerva? To Artemis? To Isis? Those were handed to you. Hecate's blessing was shoved to you, and you owe her nothing, despite her beliefs." Libertas says firmly.

"You're the first goddess to share so much. To help to such degree." I confess, curling my hands over a hot chocolate she summoned.

"I am an old, forgotten spirit. Last I knew, such help as the type I have given you was common. Jupiter walked among his children; Aphrodite played with her grandchildren. Vulcan took requests and taught classes- they all were so much more involved. I have no idea why my siblings retreated so, but it cannot be good."

"Something had to have happened." I chime in.

"Will you do a favor for me, child of bindings? Wil you accept one more duty in my name?" Libertas asks.

"Of course," I reply, "You saved my life."

"I am a goddess of no debts. You owe me nothing. Freedom is free, that's part of what makes it great."

"Respectfully, I disagree. Freedom is never free. Someone always has to protect it, has to defend it against those who reject it. Freedom has a cost, one measured in lives." I find myself saying, staring her down over the lip of my mug.

"Forgive me, you are- you are correct. I do not enjoy thinking on the names, the faces, the souls who have kept my domain alive. Freedom should be free."

"Yes, it should." We agree, both morose, thinking on the lost. "So, what was your request?"

"If you would go to Olympus and present my resurrection to the council. Remind them of my existence, of my plight. And, if it is not too much, ask what changed, what altered the state of things."

"I can do that." I smile, collecting my arms and bowing.

"You're leaving now?" she asks.

"I have a binding duty to go to Olympus. No need to dawdle." I reply.

"Then farewell, Alyssa. May your path be lit and empty of torment. And, if I may, be hesitant to tie yourself down again, I am biased, but freedom is too important to give up."


	8. Olympus

Libertas faded back into the air after I gave her my word that I'd help her and she passed on her advice. Carefully I climbed back down the statue, easy of my wounds. The battle had been rough, and I was sore to the bone. Walking through the lobby, my shoes squelched and I remembered my new problem: the bodies.

No doubt when people arrived tomorrow there would be an investigation, and if I was still here, I would be the prime suspect. And, given I was wanted for art theft, and the scroll was in my bag, it would not end well. Eagar to avoid murder or manslaughter charges, I had to get off the island before the first ferry. But, there were no boats docked to the shores. And I was not swimming for it. Neptune would never let my trespass go unpunished. But there was nothing- the ruined tents were just full of sleeping bags and some snacks. Often bloodied and stinking of fear. No help for a stranded girl. I lacked the tools to bury the bodies, and they deserved to have their demise found. It wouldn't be right to try and hide them. And they would be found anyway. Better to leave them alone, to let the proper authorities handle this. But it was a defeat- I wasn't fast enough to catch him and stop the manticore. To slow, to weak. These people died because I failed. Wasn't the first time I wasn't good enough. Wasn't even in the first dozen times I couldn't measure up.

With nothing better to do, my mind went back to Hoover Dam. Hoover Dam had been a massacre- we got caught exposed. Half a legion lost because they caught our flanks. We had marched on orders- there was an uprising of harpies who had collected some of the wild hordes of monsters in the desert. We were told to drive them back. Of course, the Spec were sent out first in advance. I was the commander of the eastern dam, and someone missed something.

I still don't know what exactly happened, but one minute we were holding our own, a bulwark beating them back, and the next there was a hole in the ground and a horde of monsters poured out, right into our flank. The sixth legion took the brunt of it, caught between holding the horde in front of them and the claws of the new group. We were forced to retreat, so pull back and regroup. If the Hunters of Artemis hadn't shown up and fallen on their rear, the battle may have gone very differently. As it was, my scouting party of eight was cut in half- and one maimed too badly that he'd never fight again. A disaster. I expected that to be the end of my leadership, but nothing happened then. It was later that everything would change and shatter.

Shaking my head, I pulled myself from my thoughts. Reminiscing on the past wouldn't help me now. I looked up, and judging by the moon, I had about four hours to get off the island before the first boat found the bodies. Maybe if I was at the docks I could talk them into taking me back to the mainland before they found the blood trail, but then what? I could confess what happened and pray the mist held, but they'd find the manuscript and I'd still fail. There were no options but bad ones.

"Yeah, you're up a creek without a paddle. So whatchu gonna do about it?" The voice shocked me, and I spun around to see a man who wasn't there a minute ago. He wasn't tall, wasn't overly muscled, but as he walked forward he moved- like a snake, or a lion. Slow and languid, but ready to pounce with explosive force, to move like nothing I'd be able to stop. He stopped at the edge of the dock where I was and looked out across the bay.

"I asked you a question." He said, glancing over with the unmistakable air of command, or giving orders and them being implicitly followed.

"Sir?" I asked, working through who he could be.

"You killed that beast, put an end to its slaughter, but now you're stuck here in hostile territory, and if they find you, your mission is over and failed. So, what are you going to do about it?" he reiterates, shifting to face me directly.

"There are no boats, and I'll die before I could swim all the way to shore. No aircraft here either, no bridges, no tunnels." I say.

"I didn't ask what you couldn't do, I asked what. Are. You. going. to. do." With every word he pokes my chest, denting the breastplate.

"I'm not killing the mortals who get here. They're just doing their jobs. So what exactly are you pushing me to do?" I snarl, stepping closer and glaring in his face, meeting the eyes behind the shades.

"Finish your mission however you need to do it." He says back, crossing his arms, unimpressed. "You were one of the best, one of my best. I created your unit to be unstoppable- to climb any mountain and stop and foe. When did you forget who you are Alyssa?" he says, shaking his head. "Senatus Populesque Romanus." He spits, "You swore an oath."

"An oath they broke." I spit back, angrily stepping into his space again, pushing against his arms.

"So you got stabbed in the back by some misguided fools. Does that mean your oath doesn't matter? Did the people you swore to protect ask you to give up? Just because they told you you were wrong, doesn't mean you're not still a soldier and have a duty. Those I respect the most are those who get cast out but refuse to give up the fight, to stop serving their people. You stand with the greatest of gifts thrust upon you, and you're running from who you are. Stand tall and refuse to bow to them- you are who you are. If she hadn't stolen your life, you'd be a praetor by now. The best of them all- so why are you sitting here in defeat? Fight!" he says, snapping his fingers and vanishing as something in the bay rears up and roars.

Knocked on my butt by Mars' departure, I scramble to my feet and look out. Closing quickly to the harbor is a massive serpent; dimly lit by the moon I can still tell it's massive- easily 30 feet long. Teeth the size of my arm, and a forked tongue long enough for me to wear it as a dress, coiled properly.

"Whatever it takes." Mars says in my head as the serpent gets close enough to shrike, screeching and biting at me. I roll to the side and reach for my sword, only to find the scabbard empty. So too are the bow and my dagger- I'm unarmed against one of the ocean's mightiest. Well, never quite unarmed. Grey smoke coils around my arms, armored gloves solidifying as it lunge again. I doge and punch its snout, but the thick scales absorb all of the impact and it pulls back without even noticing.

Scowling, I run for the promontory, watching the serpent follow. Despite having the shorter distance, it's far faster in the water and lunges at me the moment I round the rise in the hill. I fall back to avoid the snap of its jaws, teeth inches from my face. As it draws back I climb to my feet, stepping forward carefully, wary of the ledge crumbling under my weight and the impacts.

As I hit it again in the snout, stepping aside its lunges and bites, I realize how absurd this would look- a girl punching at a serpent in the moonlight. Suppose this is how Andromeda felt, before Perseus. Just her and her wits against something massive and dangerous, mortal against the divine. A fight that she couldn't lose, but could never win.

But I wasn't just a girl. The next bite, I timed it and hit not the scales of its snout, but the teeth inside. The row of teeth cracked as I smashed thorough them from the side, breaking them into jagged chunks in its mouth. It reared back, blood pouring from the side of its jaw. I wasn't unscathed though, jagged cuts all over my unprotected upper arm. But I hurt it. It was hesitant to try again, but my blood must have been enough to tempt it as it lunged again. This time careful of my attack, it tried to slam it's snout on me and crush me into the ground. I dodged the blow, but the promontory, weakened from the fight, collapsed in a shower of rock and dirt. Falling toward the sea, I grabbed onto whatever I could, which ended up being the jaw of the serpent. Hanging by one hand from a massive serpent that was going to thrash and throw me off at any moment, I had to change the terms. Kicking my feet, I threw myself up and over, straddling the head of the serpent. It screamed, Drawing back and shaking itself to try and throw me off, but I was ready. As its mouth opened, I stuck my other hand in the corner and grabbed tight to the post of its teeth. I held on as best I could, but its eye swiveled to look at me and I knew it was going to buck me off. I couldn't stay on if it dove-I had to find some way to stay on!

It tossed it's head back, throwing my body weightless for a moment and I focused, forcing my spirit to extend and be something else- It dove into the water as my body crashed down, the grey smoke wrapping around my feet- Water slammed into me, gallons and gallons of it as a force unlike anything I'd ever felt. But, being dragged under water by the coiled serpent, I held on. It surfaced and I coughed and spat water, my feet sharp and spiked, digging under its scales to hook on. It threw itself back and tried to shake me off, but I could not be dislodged. I would not let go. In and out, plunging back and forth between the sky and the water, diving deep and leaping as high as it could- the serpent struggled to do anything it could to dislodge me, but like a limpet I clung on. Finally, as it tired and drifted, blood pooling in the water from us both; I nudged it with a knee. This set off another set of thrashing and diving, but as soon as it stilled again I pushed once more. Slowly I fought it to land, the exhausted beast weary and worn. As it approached the shallows, I braced, knowing that the moment it sensed my grip wasn't absolute it would do it's best to kill me.

The shoreline approached sand just ten feet away when it refused to go any closer. It was crafty, looking back at me with savage intelligence. It knew that any closer and I'd jump clear. We were at an impasse. I was stuck, with no other ideas. It could outlast me, being a creature of the sea, so I had to do something.

The stalemate ended as something bumped into the serpent and its eyes flicked over to see what disturb our fight. I recognized the chitin and fur drifting in the surf- the dead manticore.

"You can't get it and me." I tell the serpent, its eyes flicking back to me. "It's drifting out to sea." The body is, slowly being washed out toward the sound and the open ocean.

"It's it or me." I say. "One stringy demigod or a big beefy manticore?"

It hisses and chitters, arcing back. I brace, trusting things to work. It suddenly reared forward, but at the apex of its swing I leapt off.

Jaws clashed right behind me and I braced to run along the tail that was drawing up to flick and leapt again- hitting and rolling in the shallows of about two feet of water. Safe, I step back on dry land and salute the serpent. It hisses and screeches once more, turning and seizing the manticore in its jaws before winding out of the bay toward the open ocean.

I fall to my butt in the sand, exhausted from the fight.

"Unorthodox, but you got the job done." Mars says, standing next to me.

"I always do." I reply though a yawn.

"Brat." He says, dropping my weapons in the sand and vanishing.

"Thanks for the ride." I say to the air, thinking of him and Neptune. The waves wash over the dirty sand and slowly the city wakes up. Tiredly, I climb to my feet and brush the sand off. I can't stay here. I have a job to do. I sheathe my weapons and look up at the rock floating in the air, far above the empire state building.

' _The worst fight is still to come'_ , I tell myself, walking off the sand and onto the sidewalk. The streets are quiet given the early hour, though this certainly is the city that never sleeps. But it wasn't the first to bear that moniker, and probably won't be the last. It's easy to find my way, the streets laid out in a way that makes sense and is simple to follow. In no time at all, I'm standing before the doors.

The elevator guard tires to fight me about there being a higher floor, and it eventually comes out that he only lets Greeks up, and I'm no Greek. So it's the long way up, taking the stairs and the paths. He does let me ride up to the 99th floor and shows me the door to the roof.

Mount Olympus is a place of power, steeped in legendary battles and decisions, the strength of its powers literally caked into the dirt under my feet. In every brick I can feel the trembling of energy, every step carries me deeper into the miasma, the radiating cosmos of pressure and creation. The path is dotted with structures and temples and shrines and all sorts of things. As much as I try to fight them, I can't fend all the compulsions off.

One of them I pass is a stone fountain without water. Instead, notes are stuck to the lip and edges, crumpled up and tossed in the bowl, some even falling onto the grass under the fountain. I pick up the discarded notes and read some of them on the stone. It's poetry. Poetry of all sorts, about anything at all. Straightening out of the crumpled pages, I write on the back, putting a short thing together.

 _Headstrong, full of hope_

 _Mighty mountain above, I_

 _fragile traveler_

Leaving the note on the lip of the fountain, I take a deep breath and move on, hoping my plea is heard.

Farther along is a shrine overgrown, weeds mixed in with flowers. Whoever's shrine this belongs to has been neglected, and left ignored. Rolling up my sleeves, I kneel and start picking out the weeds, tossing them aside and not noticing them vanish as they hit the bricks. It's hard work, but I'm no stranger to sweat and before long the only plants around the shrine are those that belong. I pour out one of my water bottles to wash away the dirt and dust from the rest of the small structure and step back, bowing lightly before moving on. As I walk away, the shrine seems to stretch its roots and the flowers planted along its base all bloom.

Slowly, the stir spreads of a foreigner on the soil of the gods, a traveler stepping in hallowed places. I pass a temple and have to stop walking, closing my eyes and concentrating, the pang of hurt and loss in my chest too overwhelming to continue without addressing it. Sorrow, bone deep rushes through me and I find tears sliding down my cheeks. But I fight my composure back and move on, wiping away the wet with the back of my hand.

Off the path is another decorative statue, the flames flickering and almost out. I am careful, searching for something to feed the flames with, but coming up with nothing. The temples nearby are well supplied, but I cannot take from them. There are no trees that I can take branches from, no weeds or yard waste to feed it. In the end, I pull out the chunk of leg I won from the Manticore. It's a prized possession, but I can't let the flames go out. So I push the chitin in with trepidation, but the flames eagerly accept the offering, cheerfully blazing and devouring the bone and keratin.

I walk along the path; wary of the eyes I can feel watching me. Over the next rise is a bridge, with an island in the middle. Sitting on the near bank is a chicken, a wolf and a bag of feed. Smiling at the old riddle, I take the chicken in my arms and carry it across the bridge before coming back and getting the wolf. On the return from that trip I bring the chicken and leave it behind for the feed. Finally, I cross back for the chicken and take it across. Rubbing the ears of the wolf and the stroking the chicken's feathers, I move on. Behind me the bridge shimmers, the wolf and grain and chicken all disappearing. There is no gap to bridge.

I continue unaccosted for a bit longer before I'm halted in front of yet another temple. This time the feeling that courses through me is not regret or loss, but desire. My cheeks redden as I think of Artemis' gentle caresses or Thalia's firm hold on my shoulder. I remember Marissa back from the legion and feels the longing touch my soul. But once it manifests, the enchantment is quickly broken and I press onward.

I summit a hill to find a sword plunged into the loam, buried half to the hilt. Weeds grow up the blade and it's obvious the sword is long forgotten. I'm careful as I approach, fearful to anger some god or spirit, but I get to the sword without altercation or apparition. It takes my entire body to draw the sword from the dirt, the blade being not half buried as I guessed, but nearly plunged all the way down. It strains every muscle in my body and the slowly healing injuries to pull, but one does as one must. The end is chipped, and the whole thing needs work. So, I sit and draw out my whetstone and oils from my bag.

Olympus is blessed with eternal day, and so I have no idea how much time has passed as I work the stone and the blade, cleaning rust and dents and nicks from the edge. Finally running a cloth down the length, I stand and wonder what to do with the greatsword now. I could replace it in the hill, but that doesn't feel right. Instead, I lay it back down among the flowers and grass and pray for a moment. Standing, I leave the sword behind, not seeing the flowers curl around the hilt nor the blade glow.

I'm nearing the stones to the throne room when I draw to a halt. In front of me are three temples, one on the left, one on the right, and one with the path split around it. The right one is lit, but not extremely well tended, like a home when you come home from vacation. A thin layer of dust and a stale feeling to the air. The central temple is big and bright, well cared for and gleaming. To its right sat the last temple, dark and empty, shuttered and closed.

I really, really don't want to, but I know I can't leave them like this. I start with the right most one, stepping into the interior and looking around. Tucked carefully out of sight behind the brazier is a broom. I sweep the dust out of the massive stone chamber, clouds billowing down the steps. The windows are closed, and far out of my reach, but I use the broom to push the latches and open them up. Salt air floods the room and I bow before leaving. The central temple requires no work, and so I face the last temple.

It's obviously closed up, abandoned, but I know whose sanctuary this is. It's risking life and limb, or more accurately soul and sunder, but I step in anyway, prying the doors open. Once the doors are open I stack the wood in the fire pit and coax a flame out of the logs. With the brazier burning again, I can light the torches. With everything lit, I search for cleaning supplies, but there are none here. Deciding that brothers can share, I walk back across the path and borrow the broom from the first temple. I try to ignore the tremor under my feet as I take it.

Starting from the back of the temple again, I sweep and dust as best I can. The dark lumps and shapes turn out to be gold and black marble, emeralds and rubies and sapphires and diamonds of all colors buried under smoke and dust. The broom is mostly useless, and I end up pulling off my jacket to wipe away the grime. It's long work and I'm filthy by the time it's done, but the temple is restored as best I can make it. I return the broom, giving silent thanks to the gods before bowing before each temple and picking my bag back up and mounting the floating stones to the throne room, where I'm likely to be smited simply for existing. Olympus Maximus, the throne of the world, awaits in all its golden splendor.


End file.
